


The Devil's Trill

by DarkAthena (seraphim_grace)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - High School, Canon-Typical Violence, Classical Music, Demon possession, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Happy Ending, M/M, Meifu, Other: See Story Notes, Shinigami, Underage Drinking, Yami no Matsuei fusion, check the notes for further warnings, demon contracts, god summons, talking cactus, this is not a death fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 08:59:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraphim_grace/pseuds/DarkAthena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott thought his life had changed for the better when he was accepted to the Argent Music Academy, he had just received a new cornea and everything looked wonderful, but then he started to dream of a woman playing the violin, playing “The Devil's Trill” and found himself caught up in a investigation of demons, the living dead, and music.</p><p>This is an action adventure story and as such has some dark elements (which I have warned for) but it is resolved with a happy ending.</p><p>I have "warned" on the side of caution, most of the things I've warned for are passing references or scenes that go past quickly in an action story. I would also point out this story features a talking cactus who does Sailor Moon impressions - it really is not nearly as dark as the tags suggest</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Reiya_Wakayama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reiya_Wakayama/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Art for "The Devil's Trill"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104807) by [Reiya_Wakayama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reiya_Wakayama/pseuds/Reiya_Wakayama). 



> Features one scene of dubious consent, discussion of a past non consensual scene, violence, demon possession, demon deals, transformations, classical music, innuendos and potty mouths, discussion of death, suicide, attempted suicide  
> this is not a death fic, and features no character death - some characters are just dead before the story starts! Not that it stops them much. Mentions of past cross dressing, underage drinking, and a talking cactus.  
> However the fic is not nearly as dark as the warnings suggest.
> 
> This is a fusion with Yami No Matsuei - which features a government agency featuring the dead. 
> 
> Beta by Stopdropandhowl
> 
> you can hear the Devil's Trill itself [here ](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Igs88dVCec4)

[](http://s11.photobucket.com/user/seraphim_grace/media/TDT_0_-_Cover_zpsc8e7fac0.jpg.html)

Scott sat on the hospital bed, with his mom holding his hand, when the eye specialist, the ophthamologist, came in. He was nervous, today was the big day, and his Mom, probably as nervous as he was although she was a nurse and had seen all this before, just kept squeezing his hand. He wasn't sure which of the two of them was comforting whom. “Hey there,” she said with a smile in her voice, “you ready to get those bandages off?”

Scott clutched his mom’s hand a little tighter and took a deep breath. “Yeah,” he said, licking his lips, “let’s do this.”

Dr Stoller, the ophthamologist, laughed, the way she always did when Scott was brave because it made her smile, because Scott was brave and it made her day when one of her patients was cheerful. She always made sure to be bright and cheerful with her patients, especially the kids, because it put them more at ease. 

“Now we’re going to do this slowly; I’ve lowered the lights right down so there’s no glare, but I need you to be honest with me, is that okay, Scott?” Scott told her that it was. “First the right eye, make sure to keep it closed for now.” Scott felt the gauze being pulled away: they changed the bandages daily and this didn’t really feel that different. “Now the left,” the doctor said. “I’m going to use a little ophthalmic lubricant; your eyes are a bit gluey, just make sure to keep them closed.” He could feel the doctor’s breath on his face, oniony and stale, and then the cold slimy feeling of the lubricant. “Blink a few times to work it in,” the doctor said; so Scott blinked, expecting flashes of the admittedly poor light but saw nothing. “Now open your eyes and tell me what you can see.”

The room was dark and blurry, but as he blinked it got better, until he looked across at his mom and for the first time since the accident he could see her. He could see her clearly and she was smiling and he was smiling and it was wonderful. And his mom was smiling and the doctor was grinning so wide it looked like it would split her face. “I can see my mom,” Scott said, "and you - you’ve got something in your teeth.” He was laughing because the odds had been against the operation working but it had and he could see, and he wasn’t blind. Scott had spent the last three weeks trying to learn Braille (poorly), and playing the violin because he had gotten into the music academy, winning his scholarship at all state, before the accident and he could see.

He had been so sure, no matter what everyone told him, that after the accident he would be blind - it didn’t mean he couldn’t play any more; he just needed to learn the music and not just read it any more. Lots of great violinists had been blind. Still, the violin had felt so good in his hands, he could feel the calluses on his fingers and the slight unevenness of his jaw where he rested it against his shoulder and listened and now he could see! It was the best thing in the world ever, and he would start at the Argent Music Academy in a few weeks, and maybe he’d need glasses but it was better than being blind .

“I wish you could see your smile,” Dr Stoller said as she pulled a pair of sunglasses out of her pocket, “because really, it’s the best looking thing we have in the ophthalmology department.” She always said goofy things like that and Scott always blushed because doctors weren’t supposed to say things like that, but she always sounded so genuine.

“I was wondering,” Scott’s mom said as Scott fumbled on the dark glasses, they were ugly plain shades with black frames, the sort the hospital bought in bulk, but there was nothing special about them, and they felt heavy on Scott's face, so he crinkled his nose at them, pushing them back up when they slid down, as his mom continued talking “if there was any way we could thank the donor.”

Dr Stoller bit her lip, “In operations like this it’s not possible to remove the cornea before death, so it’s just not possible I’m afraid. However, if you want to write the family a letter saying thank you I can do my best to forward it on - some like the reminder that their loss helped someone, no matter how small.”

Scott reached over and squeezed his mom’s hand. “I think they’d like that,” he told her. “They’ve given me the most amazing gift, and it’s horrible that someone had to die to do it, but I think if it was me, I’d like that, I'd like to know something good came out of it,” then he turned to Dr Stoller, “you do have me down as an organ donor, right?”

Dr Stoller laughed again, perching against the counter with her hands holding the edge, “Of course, Scott! Your mom’s a nurse, and you’ve been on the donor list for years.” And Scott laughed at that too. “But seriously, if you have a kidney going spare,” and then Scott’s mom laughed too, because the joke was funny and Dr Stoller was an eye doctor not a surgeon. “I think we can get you out of the hospital today but you’re going to have to come back tomorrow for an eye test; to see how strong your eyes are. And you need to cover them when you get home, and dark glasses at least until school starts.”

She picked up her pad as Scott looked around the room, just appreciating the fact that for the first time in three weeks he could see and he didn’t have pads over his eyes and his eyes didn’t hurt much. “Melissa, if you could stay here a moment - Scott, why don’t you wait in the hallway, okay.” And Scott nodded. Everything was wonderful and he was happy, and come the new term he would start at the respected Argent Music Academy. Mom had saved up to get him a new violin, even if it was from Craigslist, it was still a good one and it had been expensive; and he would get all new friends at his new school, he just knew it.

\--

With his letter written, Scott flopped down on his bed with just the night light on - because he’d had enough of darkness for a long time - pulled the chilled eye mask over his face and tried to sleep.

The dreams were relentless. She stood on a stage and there was little light so it picked out her golden hair as she played, swaying back and forth with the music. She was wearing black velvet - short and tight - but she looked like she had been made of gold. The violin in her hands was singing, crying out with such sorrow and rage as she played, using the bobbing of her head to keep time.

Then a man started to clap, low and slow. “You missed the timing,” he said, “again, from the start.”

Scott woke up crying.

He dreamed of her every night, until the weight of her violin in his hands was like a mill stone dragging him down.


	2. Chapter One

The Argent Academy of Music was an old fashioned brick building that looked out of place in Beacon Hills proper. It was surrounded by trees and lush lawns where teenagers in the school's strict uniform lolled about with stiff leather cases full of sheet music and their instruments, both practise and performance, at their sides. Scott pulled at the collar of his new uniform jacket, it had a stuff high mandarin collar and a gold trim with brass buttons, because it itched and was stiff and hurt his neck. His Mom had spent most of the morning fussing with it, and taking photos and calling him her little man and saying how proud she was of him. She knew how hard he had worked to get into the academy and she had moved here to Beacon Hills so he could go, even though it meant taking a pay cut at the hospital and changing jobs. He was more than happy to pose for all the photos for her.

The Academy was a very expensive private school that taught music along side the regular curriculum and you had to either be very rich or very talented to get in, Scott had beaten out three hundred other violinists for his scholarship and for the first time since he had picked up a bow he was going to be surrounded by other violinists. He would get to play in recitals that weren't just five year-olds practising their scales on stage. He was going to the best feeder school for Juilliard in the country and he was going there because he was good enough. 

He had gotten in and he had been chosen to perform at an All-state level with other kids his age, and he hadn't lost that much time to the accident.

That was the moment when the tall blonde jock bumped into him hard enough that both his satchel, uniform issue, and his violin case went flying across the paved path. The jock had a small coterie of assholes around him because they all laughed. "Got a problem, Testicle?" Scott flinched and bit back his retort thinking, not on the first day, not on the first day although he wanted nothing more than to knock that kid's perfect teeth down his throat.

"Jackson, don't be an ass," another boy said as Scott bent down to pick up his books, the boy had olive skin, dark hair and eyes, and he popped open the case to make sure the violin was okay before he handed it back. "Sorry about that, that's Jackson, he's an ass." The boy said as Scott clutched it to his chest, still doing his best not to say anything. "You get used to it. I'm Danny, you're the new kid, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I'm Scott." The boy, Danny, grinned at Scott.

"Pleased to meet you, nice instrument, is that willow?"

"Rosewood." Scott answered calmly, amazed that someone knew about instruments, he had been the only one at his old school that even played a classical instrument. Everyone else had played the guitar or the keyboard, apart from one girl who played the recorder. "Are you a violinist too?"

Danny laughed, "nah, I play the cello," he said, "I like the feel of a big instrument between my thighs." For a second Scott blushed and then realised it was just a joke, and laughed. "I get it though, new school and the first person you meet is Jackson, he's all right when he gets used to you." Danny had a pair of dimples that were almost deep enough to drown in. "He just thinks it's cool to be an asshole. I'll take you to the music room where you can stow your bow," the way Danny spoke it was like a whole new language, "We strings have to stick together, or the woodwinds will run the school. Give someone something they can blow and they think they are online for world domination."

Scott had the feeling he'd like Danny, it was his first day in a new school and he had already made a friend.

As they walked into the main building Scott's eye was caught by two girls, wearing the shapeless black bolero and kitten tie of the girl's uniform, one had long curly brown hair and the other was a blonde. The brunette had the most beautiful smile he had ever seen and eyes that took over his world, across her lap, over the kilt she wore, she had the case for a string instrument, it was a little too large for a violin and too small for a cello. He had never seen a viola player before and he would later argue that that was the reason he stumbled as he walked past her. Her smile, when she noticed him, was blinding, and the girl beside her said something, painted fingernails drumming the William Tell overture on her flute case.

"Who's that?" he asked as they went into the school.

"Allison Argent, her grandfather is the founder of the school." Danny said as he took him to the string room, there were coils of string, gut and synthetic on the wall and little wooden lockers, with padlocks for their instruments. Scott was quick to find the one with his name on it in a scrolling calligraphed script, that looked like it had been written in musical notation it was so beautiful, and stowed his instrument inside. "She's nice, she's a stringer too, the other girl is Erica Reyes, there's a rumour she's in a gang, I'd say it was true but seriously, you should hear her play, no one in a gang can play like that."

"Ah, McCall," an older man in a suit said walking up to them, "here you are." He had a sort of slimy oiliness to his voice as he smiled with far too many teeth for Scott's liking. "I was just looking for you. Are you showing him around, Mahaelani?"

"Yes, Principal Argent," Danny said, "but I better be going, or I'll be late to class." And as Scott noticed how quickly that Danny vanished into the corridors he couldn't really blame him, there was something about the principal that was just off, but he wasn't quite sure what it was. He just didn't like him. 

“Accompany me, McCall.” The Principal said taking Scott to his office, a well appointed room with a large imposing desk and many photos of a woman in a black dress on the walls. There was a single shelf of books and a file cabinet. The window overlooked the building site at the back of the school.

"It's not very often that someone of your calibre is here at the school," Argent said as he lifted down a manilla envelope of sheet music, "I was wondering, have you ever played Tartini?" Scott shook his head, Argent just grinned that awful grin again and handed him the music. "We're having a small back to term recital, because of your performance for the scholarship you have the solo, here." Scott took the envelope. "It was my daughter's signature piece, I'm sure you'll do it proud. Now off to class with you."

\--

Class was normal, although there was only twelve people in his class and rather than them having individual desks they shared a large two tables made by putting three desks together, two back to back, and one along the sides. It was different, Scott thought, but it worked, and the extra room on his half of the desk was awesome. He had sat down next to Danny, which Danny encouraged because this would be their seat for the whole semester at least, before Allison sat down facing him with Erica, and two other people, please call me Boyd call me Vernon and I'll break your fingers - Boyd, and Isaac who played the harp. And it was maths and that had surprised Scott because he had thought that there would only be music classes because it was a music academy and they might not care so much about the other topics, but their teacher was really good.

"What's this about you getting the solo?" Danny asked him at lunch. They were sat at a table next to the vending machine which offered hot drinks and soups - a godsend for the woodwinds and brass, they get really dry mouth Danny explained - and sandwiches with great big slabs of roast beef and what Danny had said was horse radish, and this really crinkly looking lettuce Scott had never seen before.

"I don't think it's been confirmed yet," Scott said, "just Principal Argent cornered me, you were there, and said you've got the solo and handed me some sheet music." Scott reached into his satchel to show him the envelope.

"Tartini's Sonata in G Minor!!" Danny might have been unnecessarily loud. "Holy fuck balls shit crap wank." He finished with.

"I haven't even looked at it." Scott admitted.

"You don't know what it is?" Isaac said from his left. "I second it, Danny, holy fuck balls shit crap wank."

"Don't make a big deal." Boyd drawled slowly. Scott hadn't figured out what Boyd played yet, he was just so massive and imposing it was possibly the bones of the freshmen. "It's not like it's the one of the most infamous piece for the violin." His voice was dry and soft, "think Rachmaninoff for strings." Scott swallowed, "I mean it's not like violinists have had nervous breakdowns performing it, or that Principal Argent's own daughter didn't kill herself because of it."

"He said it was her signature piece." Scott protested.

"And it was, Vanessa Mae can't play it." Danny said, "most violinists do it as a duet because it's so complicated, it's for six fingered mutant virtuosos. Where's your phone?" Scott handed him it, and Danny quickly brought up youtube finding the piece. "There's this story about it, the composer was broke and made his living teaching violin to ungrateful kids of rich people. Everyone did that back then, even Mozart, but Tartini was barely breaking even. He starts to get these dreams that the devil comes to him to learn the violin, and every night he dreams it, and then one day he has to turn back and say I've taught you everything I know so in payment the devil plays for him, putting his all into the violin just like Tartini taught him."

Isaac picked up the story, "when he woke up he tried his best to write it down, and it made him famous. They call it the Devil's Trill, but here's the thing, when they asked him about it he said it was a pale imitation because he couldn't understand the devil's pain."

"And what mortal man can know the suffering of an angel cast out of heaven?" Boyd drawled.

"So it's like - this is not the greatest song in the world, this is just it's tribute?" Scott asked, quoting Tenacious D. He didn't think they'd get it, he was getting the impression no one else at the school listened to popular music.

"Pretty much," Danny said, and handed him back the phone. "Here you go, the Devil's Trill." Danny had saved it, "you need to tell Mr Argent what Principal Argent did, he's the student counsellor, and Allison's dad, so watch out for that, sometimes Principal Argent gets a bit over the top, I'm sure you deserve the solo, but seriously no one deserves the Devil's Trill."

Isaac laughed to himself, "the devil doesn't deserve the Devil's Trill." He smiled a little to himself, he had a soft smile like he had a secret that he kept to himself, something small and private, "but it's really beautiful."

"Most of our recitals are freshmen playing Au Clair de Lune," Boyd agreed, "if I never hear Eine Kleine again I will die a happy man." It was hard to tell, Scott thought, if Boyd was happy at any point, he'd spent the whole morning with him and he had never shown another expression but mild boredom. "Didn't you win some award with the scholarship?" Boyd asked.

Scott knew now that the kids he sat with were the scholarship ones, ones who had gotten into the school not because their parents were rich enough to donate a new music suite like the Whittemores but because they could play and play well. These were the kids who would get into Juilliard, not the Whittemores or the Daehlers, who could pay their way there but wanted their kids to be lawyers or surgeons like them, but lawyers and surgeons who were well rounded and could play an instrument.

Scott nodded taking another bite of his sandwich, "it's not a big deal." He answered, "I mean I lost weeks of playing because of the accident."

"Accident?" Danny asked and then the conversation changed to Scott explaining how he had been nearly blinded in a car accident and he'd had to have a cornea transplant because of the damage to his left eye and he had honestly thought he'd have a different eye colour and Boyd had seen a horror movie about a girl who had had a transplanted liver that tried to take over the world which he had said was scarier than it sounded and the Devil's Trill was forgotten until later that afternoon when Scott met with Mr Argent about the solo.

\---

Danny drove so he had agreed to car pool with Scott, Isaac and Boyd, because it wasn't that far out of his way, Isaac lived with Boyd's parents because his Dad couldn't move his work, and there was something about the way Isaac said it that made Scott uncomfortable because Isaac had seemed almost pleased by it, so Scott didn't press, he just invited the three of them to dinner on Friday when his mom was at work at the hospital so they could play on his xbox, because his Mom had gotten him the new Halo game when he had gotten into the Academy. "Hey, who's that?" Scott asked looking over towards the new music suite. It was still a construction site so the students weren't supposed to go there, but the person looked a little too old to be a student. He was dressed in jeans, sneakers and a leather jacket over a grey henley, with a light scruff and he was looking directly at Scott.

"Who?" Isaac turned to look where Scott was looking. "I can't see anyone." He opened the door and when Scott flicked his eyes away and back, caught by the motion, the man was gone.

\---

That night Scott had another nightmare. He was aware that it was a dream but powerless to remove himself from it, it was like someone was sitting on his chest in the real world making it hard to breathe, but it was not like he was having an asthma attack. His asthma was the reason he had learned the violin as he did not have the breath for woodwind like he had wanted, because he had wanted to learn the trumpet. But he was back in the auditorium. The stage was central, with seats all around it, and the woman stood in the centre in a long red dress, but the hems were wet like she was stood in a puddle of something dark as she played, and she played beautifully though the song was both frenetic and sad.

The notes dipped and soared and she kept time by almost rocking, but there were arms about her now, one over her stomach and the other around the right side of her throat, the opposite end to how she held the violin, and the violin itself was beautiful. It had a sweet aching tone like a finger run around the lip of a crystal glass or the recording of a castrato that Scott's old music teacher had made him listen to, but there was something sinister about it, just as there had been in that recording, the hand, shadowy, dark and malevolent reached up to cup her face, to tug her hair behind her ear as she played, and she was crying, then the hand that had cradled her stomach with splayed fingers, placed itself over her eye and the figure behind her became apparent for the first time, and smiled.

Scott woke up screaming.

His left eye was burning as if the claws of the creature in the dream had pierced through his pupil, and the tears felt like blood.

It happened the next night, and the night after that, and the night after that.

\--

 

When Scott got to the school, sandy eyed and out of sorts from the nightmares, there was a terrible furore through the school and it was closed for the day. "What happened?" he asked one of the kids next to him.

"Fire broke out in the string room," the kid said, he was older than Scott, possibly a senior, "all the sheet music and instruments went up, school's closed for the week while they clean it out, didn't get any further though, luckily, fire doors and sprinklers and all that."

"My violin was in there." Scott said quietly, thinking of how hard his Mom had scrimped and saved to get him a semi decent one, even if it was from Craigslist.

"Sucks to be you." The senior said, "but it's insured, they'll get you another one."

"It's not that easy," Scott protested, "a violin is personal, it takes years to find one that suits you, you have to find one that sits just right, and sounds right, it has let your soul flow through the music, and," he stopped as Danny came over. "Unless you play you don't understand." He finished.

"Maybe," the senior said looking at how Scott's friends closed in around him, "don't have that issue with percussion."

Whittemore sauntered over, "looks like it sucks to be a second stringer." He laughed and his cronies, all perfectly coiffed and groomed just like him. "What's wrong, Testicle, mommy and daddy can't afford a second bow for you," his tone was almost crooning, "it just means that I'm going to get the solo now, doesn't it."

Isaac put his hand on Scott's shoulder to pull him away as at the same time Jackson turned on his heel and a dark shadow moved in and punched Jackson hard right on his smug smile. 

"Here's the thing, Jacks," Allison Argent said, leaning in to Jackson's face in a way that was more than a threat of more of the same, "the school has cameras all over the string room, because some of those instruments are very valuable, you follow," Scott couldn't believe this goddess was in front of him, "and to make things better, don't you think it's odd that all the papers were burned in the middle of the room."

"You can't do this, I'm Jackson Whittemore," Jackson repeated, "my parents pay for this school."

Allison rocked back on her loafers as if preparing another strike, "and my grandfather built it, my parents teach in it, and my aunt's legacy pays for this school, your parents just paid enough to make us accept you and think you had enough talent to make you feel better." Behind her Erica had a smile like the edge of a knife. "And your parents already had to donate a music suite to the school to cover your behaviour, you think we'll get a new library out of this stunt, Whittemore?"

Scott was in love, he'd liked her when she had smiled back at him, that soft smile that was like the uncurling frond of a fern, but this, this was the reason Romeo fell for Juliet, because she was bad ass and fierce and beautiful. She even managed to make their awful girl's shapeless and ugly uniform look like armour. 

"And don't think he was the only person who lost their instrument, Whittemore, yeah, most of us have back ups, but almost every one of us lost our primary instruments, and perhaps just once," she was leaning into his face and Whittemore was backing down, "we want to have a solo that isn't you murdering Au Clair de Lune."

Danny laughed as Whittemore rolled his shoulders to renew his bravado, before he stomped off with his coiffed cronies fast behind him. "I want to have your babies." Scott said, unaware of what rolled off his tongue. To his credit Allison just smiled her soft fern smile before she laughed with him.

Danny, Boyd and Isaac all burst out laughing, whilst Isaac, scarf wrapped around his neck despite the warm weather put his hand on Scott's shoulder, "smooth," he said and Allison laughed a little more. 

"I'm sorry about your violin," she said, her forehead was tilted down so she looked up at Scott although she was about his height even in the ugly flats the school made her wear, "we have a couple back at the house, I'll talk to my dad about letting you borrow one until you can get a new one."

Scott couldn't help but grin at her, "thanks."

"Maybe we shouldn't knock his moves," Danny laughed behind him, "it seems to be working."

Allison laughed again, "just as one stringer to another," she said tilting her head, "I'll talk to my dad, but how do you feel about coming to dinner tonight, there are lots of old violins about the house, we can try to find one that suits you."

Scott couldn't help but beaming back at her, "I'd like that, thank you, if your parents say it's okay."

"My grandfather already thinks of you like you're the second coming," Allison said, "I don't think it's going to be a problem, I'll text you."

And then she turned on the heel of her loafer, her pink sweater looking like nothing so much as armour on her back.

"I think I'm in love," Scott swooned. "I liked her before but,"

"She has the most amazing left hook," Danny agreed, "I like men and I was a little turned on, wanna make out?" he waggled his eyebrows at Isaac.

Isaac just looped his arm around Danny, Boyd sighing behind his back, "and to think we've got a whole day free now," he said in a soft slow voice, "wanna hit the arcade?" Scott had been around them enough to know that this was their usual interaction, Danny flirted with Isaac, Isaac ignored him and Boyd rolled his eyes.

"My mom's at work," Scott said, "and my xbox is set up, it's not like I can practise today." He said, "I think we might even have cheetos." 

Isaac's grin was brittle and a little too large but he put his other arm, the one that wasn't looped through Danny's, around Scott, "and now we're talking the same language."

\---

Dinner, the next night, at the Argent house was awkward. Principal Argent sat at the head of the table like an insane king occasionally asking for things like the mashed turnips, which Scott had never had before and had been a little leery of although they had turned out to be good. Allison's Mom was terrifying and might even have been scarier than her grandfather, she had short red hair and an expression that could curdle milk, as well as the most amazing pair of legs he had ever seen on a teacher, and Scott was glad he played violin because she taught woodwind- although it did explain a lot about the woodwind crowd at school. Allison's father was a sort of man who would have been nice if he hadn't been so very intense.

It was possible that the reason that the entire student body was so well adjusted was because they were terrified of their counsellor. That there were less than fifteen students per teacher might have helped, but he had a gaze like a knife point and Scott couldn't help but squirm in his seat. "Allison was telling us that your main instrument was lost in the fire we had the other day." Even his voice was sharp edged.

"I only had the one," Scott said, and everyone but Allison stopped, "my mom and my old music teacher thought it was better to get me one very good instrument than two mediocre ones." He said, "my old music teacher, the one who recommended me for the scholarship, she always said that it was better to throw away a hundred violins to find one that suits you, than to have a hundred that don't."

Mrs Argent made a sort of dismissive sound, but Gerard continued, "violins are unique in that they have a soul, each instrument sounds different, do you prefer gut or synthetic strings?"

"Gut has a richer sound," Scott said honestly parroting what he had been taught because he had always played on synthetic, "but synthetic is easier to play."

"Can you play gut?" Mr Argent asked cutting into his wurst with a steak knife in a truly terrifying manner. Scott made what he hoped to be an affirmative nod, Ms Blake, his old teacher had made sure of it, she said if he wanted to play in an orchestra it was best that he learned because some composers insisted on it.

"My daughter, Kate, exclusively played gut," Principal Argent said from the end of the table, "said it was closer to the sound of angels weeping."

There was a moment of quiet apart from the awkward scrape of a knife against porcelain. "I heard she was very talented." Scott said trying to break the terrible silence.

"There is a fine line between genius and madness." Mrs Argent, said, her tone curt and her words clipped. "And Kate walked that line too long not to fall."

"What happened?" Scott said, "if it's not too rude to ask."

"She killed herself." Mr Argent said bluntly, "she couldn't take the pressure and decided that suicide was a better option than simply giving up the bow." 

"Dad," Allison chided from her place beside Scott, "that isn't suitable conversation for the dinner table," she stopped, taking a mouthful of soda before she put the glass back down, "the problem is that Scott earned the solo for the recital and he doesn't have a violin to practise on, so I was wondering could we lend him one of Aunt Kate's, I mean you were talking about donating some of them to the Academy anyway, right."

Scott couldn't help the shudder he had at Principal Argent's smile, "of course," he said, "I know just the one." He then stood up, his dinner half finished, to fetch the instrument.

The violin that Principal Argent came back with was beautiful and very old. It had been ebonised but was very old and polished to a bright sheen by beeswax and years of use. There was something delicate about it, but strong, as if it carried the weight of years where it sat couched in blood red velvet. "This isn't really by a famous maker," Principal Argent said as he thrust the case, open, towards Scott, "but it has a lovely tone and is very old, it was my daughter's favourite of all her violins, it would please her to know it was being played by someone talented."

"I can't accept this," Scott protested, the violin was obviously very expensive.

"Consider it a loan," Principal Argent said pushing the violin forward, "until the insurance allows you to get another of your own." He was leaning into Scott in a way that made him very uncomfortable, "don't you want to try it at least?"

Scott pushed back the chair from the dining room table, "if it won't make me a bad guest," he said looking to Mrs Argent, she gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head, Scott lifted the violin and began to play. The tone was crisp and clear, each note of Amazing Grace given weight and heft. He chose Amazing Grace because it was so simple to play, long slow notes that hung in the air, each the length of the drag of the bow over the strings, and it was like the voice of an angel caught in the moment, a haunting permanent note, and Scott could feel the tears form in his left eye as he played and how Principal Argent's face had gone almost soft. The violin was like an extension of himself, Scott felt, fitting his hand as no other ever had, it played like it wanted nothing more than his hand and his bow making it sing and sing like this for no other purpose but the beauty of it.

"Take it," Principal Argent said, "it's yours, even my Kate could never make it sing it like that."

\---

That night when he slept, with the violin tucked under his bed, the woman in the dream was screaming as she played, the black shadowy hand of the thing behind her reached into her face and pulled free her eye. She didn't stop playing, although the man he had seen in the building site of the music suite was sat in the audience, not watching the woman play but Scott instead.

Scott woke up screaming, went into the bathroom and threw up, resting his forehead against the mirror as the faucet ran, hoping it could wash away the dream with the smell of vomit. It didn't.

His Mom flicked on the light, “bad dreams, baby?” she asked, still mostly asleep. “The accident?” He nodded, not having the heart to tell her she was wrong.

\--

Scott woke up the next morning to a heavy headache, his mouth tasted like cotton and he had the terrible premonition that he was coming down with something. He showered quickly, wondering if he could justify his eye patch to his Mom, or just dark glasses, or it was just the sort of headache that needed nothing more than a few ibuprofen and the quiet dark of Harris' chem lessons, because he didn't trust kids with chemicals so it was just quiet and a perfect first lesson. He pulled on his uniform, grabbed the violin that the Argents had given him, despite his protests that he was only borrowing it until the insurance came through.

His mom was already gone so he pulled out his sunglasses and rubbed the back of his head as he waited for Danny to pick him up, he felt a little nauseous so he didn't have any breakfast, and had barely eaten the night before at the Argents.

"Man, you look like crap someone stuck in the microwave." Isaac said as he climbed out of the front seat, to let Scott into the back. Isaac didn't ride in the back, it was a thing, Scott didn't want to ask why.

"Headache," Scott said flopping into the back of the tiny car next to Boyd, "I think I'm coming down with something."

"Well come down with something in someone else's car, this one's far too small to be anything other than a petri dish," Danny said, "and besides, what happened last night with the Argents? we want gossip."

Scott sighed, "Allison is the most perfect girl to ever be perfect," he said, "she has these eyes and these dimples..."

"And her smile, yes we know," Boyd grumbled, "but you have a new violin, what happened?"

"Creepy Principal Argent," there was also creepy Mr Argent and creepy Mrs Argent so Allison was clearly adopted as being the only non creepy member of that family- he was going to call them that from now on, "gave me this one, he said it was his daughter's," he flicked open the latches to show them the violin, "but it's too much, I told him I'd borrow it until my new one came through because other wise he wouldn't have let me leave the house."

"Well, you shouldn't look a gift crazy person in the mouth," Isaac said as they drove off, "that's a very expensive violin. You could wait till your new one comes in and sell that one, you could easily buy, I don't know, a house with it." He was blinking furiously, "he gave you a da Salo, do you realise..." there was a pause, "fuck."

"It's a lovely tone, and I'm only borrowing it." Scott was clear on that. "Just until the insurance comes through." He looked out of the window, "that dog is giving me the evil eye." He said. There was a black dog, long and sleek like a doberman, on the corner of the street looking at him, sat there like a statue watching the car go past.

Boyd leaned over and laughed. "It just heard how much your new violin was worth and thinks you're crazier than Argent." Across the street the dog growled in a way that looked like it was smiling.

\---

Before going into Harris' lesson Scott swung by the nurse's office to see if he could get something for his headache. The school nurse, Miss Morell, was a pretty woman who believed that the vast majority of the problems her students brought her were in fact due to them being on their period. It was a standing joke that a boy could show up with a clearly broken leg and she'd ask if they were on their period. He was quite surprised then when it wasn't Nurse Morell who was in her office wearing her white coat.

"Dude, you're not Nurse Morell." Scott blurted out, his head hurt and he felt like crap and he wasn't up to surprises today, in fact he wasn't sure he shouldn't just get Danny to drive him home and take the day sick.

"Nurse Morell had a family emergency, and don't call me dude." The tall broad man said, he had dark hair and suspiciously pointy ears, but not much more than that man on Stargate that his mom liked, and a bit of scruff. He looked a bit young to be a doctor, but Nurse Morell was apparently a lot older than she looked so maybe it was just the lighting in this room, but this man was big enough to bench press entire cars, he certainly didn't look like a school nurse. "How can I help?"

"It's just a headache, and I feel a bit nauseous, just have you got any ibuprofen, there's a note from my mom saying you can give me it."

The man stood up, he was slightly taller than Scott but much broader and went to the medicine cupboard, unlocking it with a heavy clunk before pulling out a large jar of aspirin, measuring two into his hand. "Here you go." He said handing them over, "if it doesn't go away, come back and you can sleep it off."

"Thanks," Scott said and took the pills, dry swallowing them, "Nurse..."

"Doctor Hale," the man said, "you look like your headache's bad so if you need to there's a bed back there." Scott nodded and went to his class.

\---

His day was, apart from the headache, normal, until practise. Scott was allowed to wear sunglasses in class because of his operation but Herr Jaeger, the violin teacher, made him remove them because otherwise he couldn't read the music. His head was pounding, he wasn't sure he wasn't going to be sick, as one of the other violinists in the school, of which there wasn't more than twenty, was murdering what might have been meant to be Vivaldi.

"Take your seat, Colby," Herr Jaeger said finally, "before my eyes start bleeding with my ears." Colby took his seat as Herr Jaeger looked over the class with a gaze like steel, "I lament for your parents at the recital, I really do." He said, "I, at least, get paid to listen to you murder music, Whittemore, you're next."

Whittemore, Jackson, stood up, "actually Herr Jaeger, what about we get McCall to show us how it's done, with him getting a new instrument and all from the principal, and him being All State and all, surely he can get used to a new violin over night."

Herr Jaeger turned to Whittemore with a viper's smile on his face, "a bargain, if you will, Whittemore, if McCall can play Amazing Grace on his new violin, as the school idol of course, then you get to write me an essay about hubris of, I don't know, ten thousand words." Whittemore didn't look surprised, but Scott sighed and heaved himself out his chair, feeling like he weighed a hundred tons, and slumped to the front of the class.

He assumed the usual position, holding the violin between shoulder and chin, and raised his bow, bowed his head to Herr Jaeger and swallowed down what felt like a soccer ball of bile, as he began to play.

He knew the song, he knew the fingering, he could just let it be, let his knee hold the beat for him and let the violin sing. The class fell silent and even Whittemore was open mouthed staring as he just played, and played, the music fast and frenetic, dancing and letting the bow scream for him, all the nausea and the ache of his head and just let it out, let the music swirl reaching towards a crescendo when the string snapped. With the cut on his face like a line of fire he continued to play, his eyes closed and blood dripping on the violin as Herr Jaeger grabbed his shoulder with a "Scott!" and as Scott opened his eyes the world spun and the ceiling suddenly seemed to race away from him.

"He's fainted." Someone shouted, "get Nurse Morell."

Scott was blinking blearily when Dr Hale showed up, with a few comments about how that wasn't Nurse Morell, and Scott could swear he could hear a dog growling, when Hale picked him up princess style. He was sure he could hear someone say something about Health and Safety and what could have been Danny say "he could health my safety any time."

When the dream came as it always did now Scott fumbled himself awake, reaching for the glass of water beside the bed in the school nurse's office as Dr Hale phoned his Mom, it broke under his fingers. He picked up a long shard of the glass and everything was so clear, so obvious, he didn't have to worry, and he dragged the glass across his throat and for just a second watched the blood stain the sheets, spreading out to the fibres as the red welled up and seemed to drown him.


	3. Chapter Two

The dream was about Allison so Scott didn’t really want to wake up but the sun was warm on his face and bright, too bright, and he was waking up whether he wanted to or not. The bed wasn't quite as comfortable as it had been seconds before so he slowly opened his eyes.

“You’re awake,” the giant floating chicken hovering above him said.

“No, I’m clearly not.” Scott told it. He blinked at the chicken. It was a white fluffy thing in a scarf and beret, and a long sleeveless dress tied at the waist, because clearly it wasn’t enough to simply hallucinate a giant floating talking chicken it had to be dressed; he was either dreaming or had gone completely mad.

“Gushie!” a hand said pushing the chicken away, “get out of the way,” it was a young man manhandling the chicken, pushing it so it was not over the bed and his face replaced it. “You’re awake,” the kid beamed. The kid was the same age as Scott, give or take, with a wide beaming smile, bright golden coloured eyes that were almost brown in places and an upturned nose. “We were getting worried.” He genuinely sounded excited to see Scott wake up.

“Where am I?” Scott asked, because although he was reasonably sure that he was just dreaming he couldn't rule out the possibility that he had been kidnapped or was in some sort of Oz style fantasy or vision quest.

“Now that’s a story.” The kid said, there was a pause as he thought about it, his tongue peeking out to lick his lips as his he rubbed his fingertips against the pads of his thumb.

“Meifu,” the chicken said answering it rather succinctly as the boy pushed it aside.

“Gushie!” the boy snapped, rolling his eyes. “Okay, here’s the short version, you’re in Meifu which is like,” he stopped, “it’s,” he stopped again. “It’s not easy to explain.”

“Yes it is,” the chicken corrected him, rolling it's eyes at the boy. “This is Meifu, a district of JuOhCho, which is in turn part of EnMaCho - the land of the dead.”

“Am I dead?” Scott asked, suddenly worried. He sat up in what appeared to be a hospital bed.

“No,” The boy said abruptly, trying to reassure him but it sounded more mocking, even if that hadn't been the intention“I told you this was complicated, you see we’re Shinigami, what were they called in that TV show, I know that, it’s on the tip of my tongue, the one about the girl with the toilet seat.”

“Reapers.” Dr Hale said from behind him but he looked different, more imposing if that was possible, his ears were definitely more pointed and he had red marks on his cheeks like inverted chevrons. He also seemed to be in possession of fangs but they didn't impede his speech except for a slightly lisp. He had been so silent and still Scott hadn't even noticed that he was there. “We’re Reapers, we measure the life span of people and those who live after they are meant to die, for one reason or another, are “reaped. You know those stories you hear about mothers who get up after an accident, save their child and then mysteriously die in the hospital waiting room, that's what we do, we take people who die and haven't, for one reason or another, noticed.”

“So, I’m dead,” Scott repeated.

“No,” the boy said grinning at him, it was an open, animated smile, it seemed genuine. The boy seemed exuberant, talking with large gestures with his hands and expressions and was unable to sit still. “So we monitor people who don't die when they should or before they should, and we stop it happening, you know.” He was gesturing, “and you’re not due to die for a long time, so the fact that you tried to commit suicide would have raised red flags even if we weren’t already investigating the school.”

“Investigating?” Scott asked. He looked around the room which looked a little like an old fashioned hospital room, like the sort you saw in movies, with one wide single bed, and a table. The boy had sat on the side of the bed and Dr Hale was stood at the door in a white henley and black jeans, with his arms crossed and a scowl that could curdle milk, as Scott's abuela would have put it.

“Yep,” the boy said. The boy seemed to be unable to sit still, shuffling about on the edge of the bed, his hands moving even if his mouth wasn't.

“Stiles,” Dr Hale growled, literally. “Get on with it.” Dr Hale, it seemed, was used to this, the way that Stiles talked around the subject - at length.

“Okay, here’s the short version, your violin is cursed. Every time it’s appeared death and murder and suicide has followed but we haven’t had the opportunity to get it before now, and we don’t know why it appears when it does, so we’ve confiscated it.” He grinned again, flicking his eyes to Dr Hale who just rolled his eyes as if he had to live with this every day and wondered why the powers that be had damned him like that. “Don’t worry about having a violin we have lots here, this literally is where instruments go when they die.” He laughed at his own little joke, no one else did. “Gushie will take you down into the vaults to find one that suits you, but we need to keep you here whilst we find out why you.”

“Principal Argent gave me the violin.” Scott said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yep, after his daughter acquired it and killed herself.” Hale said, leaning against the door frame of the room. Outside the window the trees were heavy with cherry blossoms, they were swaying back and forth on a light spring breeze, it gave a lot of credence to the idea that they weren’t in California any more, because it had been early September there and was late spring here. “But why you specifically?”

“Because Whittemore set a fire in the string room, my violin was ruined, I needed an instrument.” It all made sense to Scott, it was a simple thing, he needed a violin, Argent had given him a violin, he had just given him an evil violin and that was a coincidence, wasn't it?

“But why did Whittemore suddenly become a delinquent instead of just an asshole. Why give you that one? What would make Gerard Argent give a student, a new student at that, a five hundred thousand dollar violin?”

Scott swallowed.

“I don’t know.” He said.

“Which is why you’re here, so we can keep you safe whilst we find out.” The boy, Stiles said, “it’s like a vacation.” He spread his hands to indicate the room.

“What about my Mom, my friends? what are they going to think about what happened to me?” Scott had to make that clear, these two didn't seem to understand that they had kidnapped him, and people were going to be worried, his chest felt tight with the idea of his Mom worrying, she worked hard as it was she didn't need to be worried over him, and they expected Scott to just treat it like a vacation?

“Nothing,” Stiles said, “they don’t know you’re gone, time is different here, we are literally between moments, time only passes if we want it to.” It sounded amazing, a little too good to be true, but the rest of their story was just as crazy. “Our doctor, Lydia, is going to come in soon and give you a full medical, see if there’s anything we should know about why the violin picked you, but the violin itself has been removed from the picture, sent off to Warehouse 13.”

Hale rolled his red eyes, "1B," he corrected. He sounded long suffering but Stiles just beamed at him.

“If you’ve got the violin, why do you need me?” Scott asked. He was sure he hadn't gotten the whole story, and even if Stiles was talking a lot he wasn't explaining it very well.

Hale answered, “before you collapsed, do you know what you were playing?” 

Scott looked at him like he was crazy, “Amazing Grace.” He answered.

“No,” Hale corrected him roughly,, “Tartini’s Sonata in G Minor.” 

“The Devil’s Trill.” Stiles finished. Scott didn't have an answer for that, he looked at Hale who nodded, and then the chicken who was fussing with a scroll of paper and frowning as much as a giant floating chicken could.

“Come on, Stiles, we have things to do, GuShoShin, keep an eye on him.” Hale said, sliding the door open to reveal a quiet corridor with more windows open on a courtyard with yet more cherry trees.

“You’re leaving me here- with the chicken?” The chicken, GuShoShin, made an insulted noise, fluffing out it's fluffy white feathers even more before adjusting it's cap in bad temper.

“Yes,” Hale said. Hale, Scott noticed, didn't talk as much as Stiles.

Scott got out of the bed and was half way across the room to grab Hale when Stiles pulled him back by the arm, “Don’t touch him.” It came out in a rush. “You won’t like him when you touch him.”

“Why, does he turn into the Hulk?” Scott was incredulous now, it was easy to be angry, but men turning into a giant green rage beast was something he needed to see.

“We wish, he turns into a Kaiju,” Stiles explained looking across at Hale, who popped his neck as if encouraging people to trust him, “if you touch him, so just don’t touch him okay, well some people are okay, but let's not test this in the medical wing okay, Lydia would have all our balls sewn unto a hat if he brought it down around us and then went on a rampage towards her office - again.”

Scott didn't know what a Kaiju was, but it didn't sound good. “And what do you turn into?”

“An abominable snowman,” Stiles said brightly, “but it’s a seasonal thing.” And that’s when Scott realised he was joking, that as strange as this was Stiles was trying to make it easier for him.

“How do you become a Reaper?” Scott asked then sitting back down on the bed, because Stiles didn’t look like he was older than Scott, he was at most fifteen or sixteen.

“You die.” Hale answered calmly. “Then you are chosen because you were remarkable in life. Some of us were chosen a very long time ago, but don’t worry,” Hale’s voice was calm and even, “you’re not dead.” He made it sound like the repetition of a lesson taught over and over.

“You just don’t die,” Stiles said, looping his arm through Hale’s, it was another familiar gesture, these two were close even if they seemed to be polar opposites. “You’re murdered and then chosen. We’re a select few.”

GuShoShin made a strange noise, “they’re idiots,” it said in a high squeaky voice, not unlike you would imagine a chicken in a dress and hat to have. “This is the realm of the dead. This is it’s civil service. They are special investigations. They want to stop the curse on the violin. You are here to keep you safe. That is all.” Stiles grinned at the answer whilst Hale remained firm and unmoving, he had a rather piercing gaze but it was aimed at the chicken, the GuShoShin, Scott noticed, and not at him.

Scott nodded, as Stiles pulled Hale from the room by his arm, closing the door behind them.

\--

Dr, call me Lydia please, Martin was beautiful. She was beautiful in an old fashioned sense as well, groomed and tailored like from the old movies Scott's Mom liked, like “Bringing up Baby” and “His Girl Friday”. Her red hair was perfectly set, without a single strand out of place, and her jacket was cinched tight around her waist and then flared over her strict pencil skirt in a series of ruffles. She wore a dark green that brought out the colour of her eyes and her suit was so tight that it was a wonder she could move but gave her figure an adult lushness that Scott wasn't really ready to encounter yet and didn't exist in the modern world any more. She even had seams down the back of her stockings, and dark green suede fuck me pumps.

She sat down on the chair beside the bed he had woken up in, and opened out her clutch purse beside her as she crossed her legs and said in a voice that had a smoky gravel to it, "I want you to tell me everything, the more detail we get the more we can rule out." From the clutch purse she pulled a small notebook, "I know I'm a little old fashioned," she offered him a lipsticky smile, "but believe me, I am the best at what I do."

"I'm really out of my depth here." Scott didn't have problem admitting it. He was convinced that he had gone crazy and she was the first reasonably normal person here, there were still floating chickens in her office though.

Her smile was condescending and didn't quite reach her eyes. "We all are, Meifu is quite a madhouse most days." She looked perfectly glamorous as she said this, "I imagine Laurel and Hardy did a terrible job of explaining to you." She didn't sound surprised although her references were much older than those Stiles and Hale had used.

"We use the Chinese terms because it's easier, they have words in their language for the places and things here, so we use them because there aren't the equivalents in English. We've been doing this for a long time," she stopped, "but this isn't where the dead go, this isn't even where the dead are processed but where we protect the length of life." She said, "out past the cherry trees, which are always in bloom here, there is a castle- we call it the Castle of Candles, and every living human in the world is represented there by a candle, we guard those and if something happens that someone dies before they should as ordained by fate, we step in to find out why, and prevent it happening to someone else. Or if someone is supposed to die and don't for whatever reason." She took a deep breath, "sometimes they just don't realise that they are dead, for example if there is a car crash a mother might not realise she has died and will continue to live until her child is safe,” Scott thought that must be the stock answer because Stiles had given it too, then we would send field agents, like Stiles and Hale, out to tell her she should be dead, and they go along peacefully when she is reassured her baby is fine. That is the majority of what we do." 

It sounded so reasonable when she explained it. "Sometimes the natural state is altered by an outside force which sends everything out of balance, that is what is happening with you. We just need to find out why before more people die. We can't physically act and bring the dead back to life, but we can stop other people dying, do you understand?"

"Am I dead?" Scott asked again. She seemed to be better placed to explain things than Stiles and Hale were. She was patient and understanding, telling him honestly what was happening and asking him to confirm what he did know.

"No, you tried to kill yourself," she said, "but that's the violin's influence, there's probably been strange accidents around you lately, books falling off shelves and just missing you, strange animals, that sort of thing."

"A dog," Scott said remembering the black Doberman that had growled at him when he was in Danny's car just that morning. "There was a big black dog." She wrote that down, "he growled at me, and his eyes seemed to glow."

"Okay, now we need to figure out why you. I'm going to do a full physical examination and then you can get dressed and wander the area as you see fit, you're not a prisoner here, but we need to keep you in Meifu to prevent anything happening to you, GuShoShin will keep an eye on you."

Lydia had been followed by a different floating chicken, Scott could tell because this one was wearing blue where the first one, who was by the window, was wearing red. "How many chicken things are there?"

The Chicken laughed to itself with it's squeaky voice, "I am Legion," it said, "we are many." Scott didn't get the joke.

"Twelve all in all in our department," Lydia answered, moving her hair out of her face with a practised flick of the wrist that disdained the joke the chicken had made. "And they are all GuShoShin, they are all separate but share a hive mind, so anything you say to one GuShoShin they all know, think of it like a hub pc, except with more back sass." Both chicken creatures smirked at that. "Seriously, everyone here works on their back-sass, it's the only thing that keeps us sane amongst all the paper work." She offered Scott another one of those perfectly cold smiles, "now, before we start I want to know if there's anything I should know, perhaps something happened in the last six months or so for the violin to take an interest in you."

Scott offered her a smile of his own, he knew where he stood with medical procedures. "I was in an accident," he said, "my left eye was badly burned, I needed a cornea replacement and had a transplant."

Lydia scribbled it down, "okay,” she said, “we'll start with that."

\---

Stiles found Scott wandering through the cherry blossoms, "you hungry?" he said hefting up a box that was wrapped in cloth, "Wakaba over in the Japanese division feeds a load of us, and when she heard that we had a guest well you should see what she dropped off." The box that Stiles was holding seemed big enough, it was about a foot deep by a good ten inches square. "So, wanna eat?" He sat down on the wall and gestured that Scott should join him. "Lydia didn't scare you, did she, I mean, she's a goddess, her hair, I could write sonnets, bad sonnets, but sonnets, about her hair, and her smarts, what do you have to do to get a girl like that to notice you?"

"I," Scott started as Stiles just pulled his leg up so that he was sat Indian fashion on the wall, as he untied the cloth around the box to reveal it was actually several trays stacked together, laying them out, each one stuffed with foods - most of which Scott didn't recognise - between them. He offered him a pair of chopsticks, which had cartoon cats on them, "or eat with your fingers, there'll be some napkins in there somewhere, I don't care if you get it everywhere, I do every time."

"What are these things?" Scott said looking at the food. He had no idea what most of it was.

Stiles leant in, "Wakaba's cooking, man, trust me, it's worth not knowing, because it's all sooooo good."

He picked what appeared to be an egg roll up with his chopsticks, "seriously, man, Wakaba is like a queen, she not only cooks like a boss, she knits and she does this thing with a pair of swords..." he left it open for a second "but my heart belongs to Lydia," he popped the egg into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully with his mouth open.

"How many are there of you? I mean, all together." Scott asked, he wanted to understand this place, even if it was full of crazy people.

"I can tell you because as soon as you go back to the living world you'll forget most of it, in dribs and drabs until it's just not there any more." He chewed thoughtfully, "all in all in special division there's less than a hundred of us around the world, ninety six I think was the last total, although the most we ever had was fourteen hundred. We're not immortal, we don't die, as such, we're just very hard to destroy, but we can be destroyed, and then we have to wait for a particular brand of candidate which makes it hard. There are the paper pushers, they're easier to get, but we rely a lot on the old gods and things like the GuShoShin." He rooted around in the lunchbox for a cherry tomato, popping it into his mouth and biting down for the rush of juice between his teeth. "It can be a lot of work, but it's worth it." Stiles pushed the tray over. "This is okin-," he stopped himself, "this is a Japanese street pancake, it's like an omelette stuffed with stuff and glued together with this special mayo, it's really good."

"Doesn't it all just," Scott made a gesture with his hands. He hoped Stiles understood it.

"It did at first, but I was sick for a long time," he stopped, "and it was easier, and everyone was nice, which was unique to me, even Derek, although his brand of nice is mostly not eating you, which shows just how much he likes you. You haven't woken up with him chewing on your ankle even once." Scott wasn't sure it was a joke, "and I became useful, they liked that I had a spark, I wasn't something to be ashamed of, and I know my dad loved me, but people talked, and whispered, so when I got sick they said it was just the devil claiming his own back." There was a hint in the way he spoke, something old fashioned and painful. "No one deserves what I went through," there was steel in his voice then, "no one, and if I serve in this position for a thousand years no one will on my watch." Stiles made this statement waving a mini hot dog shaped like a baby octopus in his chopsticks but it didn't make it any less powerful. "Now eat, Wakaba will give me to the twins if I eat all this again."

"Who are the twins?"

It was then that Lydia came over, "the twins work in the Chinese division, but they are big fans of Japanese fashion, gothic lolita mostly." She turned her nose up at that as she spoke, "and they think Stiles looks just darling in ribbons and curls." 

"They buy me dresses." He groaned, putting his head in his hands without caring what Scott might think.

"They buy you entire designer outfits complete with wigs and shoes." Lydia teased him, helping herself to the platters of food that Stiles had put between him and Scott. "And he looks just precious, there are photos, we'll have to show you."

"I had to chase down a wendigo in platform sandals and a skirt." Stiles growled. "Because the damn thing showed up in the middle of a town on what was supposed to be my day off." Scott wasn't sure if he was meant to laugh, but he nearly did.

Lydia just smiled, "and I'm sure it appreciated you stopping in the middle of kicking it to pull up your stockings." Stiles narrowed his eyes and made a huffing noise as Scott couldn't help but laugh. He couldn't help it, he didn't know what Gothic Lolita was, but the image of Stiles in a wig kicking some monster, and stopping to fix his hose, was very funny. Stiles didn't seem offended at Scott laughing, only that it had happened in the first place.

"They're demons, I tell you, demons." He stuffed a cheese ball into his mouth with a snap.

"They won't do that to me, will they?" Scott asked, but he was laughing.

"Depends, honey," Lydia laughed, "do you have the legs for it?" And even Stiles laughed at that. "Of course, after lunch we're to see Finstock, the head of our division, to go over what we've found."

"Anything interesting?" Stiles asked, mouth half full of half chewed omelette.

"You know I don't like to repeat myself." Lydia said, taking another morsel from the lunch spread. "Wakaba really does the best cooking, have you told Derek that she's feeding you?"

When Stiles laughed he sprayed egg everywhere. "They hate each other." Lydia said. "It's like they're jealous of something, and then he shows up and eats everything, he's like a black hole of food."

"Like there isn't enough of me to go around." Stiles laughed.

"Especially the way that Wakaba cooks." Lydia laughed even as she picked up one of the strawberry and cream sandwiches in perfectly manicured fingers, Scott was surprised that there was any of those left because they were good. Whoever had thought of putting slices of strawberry and whipped cream in wonderbread was a genius. If Allison hadn't been so beautiful she might have had competition from the mysterious Wakaba just because of her cooking.

"That's because Derek thinks she's trying to swap me for her partner." Stiles said, "but no, I like working with Derek, it's handy having a partner that can turn himself into a kaiju when you can't get service." Lydia laughed again. 

"And what can you do?" Scott asked, "I mean if Hale can transform."

"This." Stiles said and pressed a fist to the flat palm of the other hand and muttered something under his breath. There was a little puff of blue smoke and when it cleared, sat on the wall in front of him was a small cactus in a cowboy hat and painted terracotta pot. "Howdy-doody!" The Cactus said waving one of it's branches.

"It's an offensively Mexican Cactuar." Scott said tilting his head. "I don't know whether I'm impressed or horrified." Lydia smiled at that.

"This is Riko," Stiles said patting the thing on the head, "he's a summoning, a minor godling from GenSouKai, the realm of the gods. I can summon thirteen of them, of which Riko is the least dangerous." Riko, the cactus, reached down and took something, Scott didn't see what, from the lunch box in front of him, stuffing it into his mouth. "Also the least impressive. However the other twelve just aren't as friendly."

"Let's be frieeeeeeennnnnndddddddssssss." The Cactus sing-songed trying to hop, pot and all, closer to Scott waving it's branches at him. "Pick me up, pick me up, pick me up."

"You're all crazy." Scott said quietly.

"Yes," Lydia said, "it's a perk of working here. It's how we cope with all the paperwork." 

\---

"This is what I discovered when I examined Scott." Lydia said tapping the projector so it showed a large 3D map of his eye as a spinning holograph in the centre of the room. Scott couldn't help but be impressed, it was certainly more awesome than the pot plant sitting on Stiles' shoulder going woo-hoo because apparently he believed in cheering things on. The pot plant had cheered on everything, including the opening of the door.

A dark shadow slithered, like a snake, up Stiles' shoulder and wrapped itself, like a ribbon around the cactus' mouth effectively silencing it with the Cactus trying, and failing, to pull it away, as the tall man in the suit who was leaning against the door frame rolled his eyes exaggeratedly as if he was perfectly used to this. Stiles frowned at him and started carrying the cactus pressed to his chest, patting it's skin to reassure it. No one else seemed to notice or care.

Lydia chose to completely ignore what was happening and Scott thought this might be the intelligent option. The whole thing was entirely crazy. "At first I thought it was a lesion from the transplant but then I blew it up, just to be sure." She increased the magnification to show the mark, which was a perfect circle, and then increased the magnification again. There were several circles, within each other, each one marked with a type of writing. "It took me a little while to decipher it, but I did." 

She smiled to herself, pleased with her own cleverness. "This signifies a contract between the pact holder, Kate Argent, and the pact maker, that in exchange for the talent of music, specifically in regards to the violin, she will surrender unto the demon upon her death, Allison Argent."

"Well, shit." Stiles said bluntly. It summed it up well. There wasn't much else to say.

"I don't understand." Scott said looking around the room. Hale was sat with his head in his hands, the man at the door looked frustrated, and Stiles was trying to pull the black ribbon, which appeared to be sticky like tar, from the mouth of his cactuar.

"It's all right," Lydia said, "I've got this." she took a deep breath. "Kate Argent made the deal, she was probably given the violin to hurry on her death, and when she died that meant that the demon could take Allison, except Kate was an organ donor and when you received her cornea the contract went into place with you. The demon wants Allison for some reason, and can't take her whilst you're alive, because the contract remains in place, so it engineered a way to get you the violin so it's curse would kill you." She licked her perfect lips, "if the demon kills you himself the contract becomes null and void, and the forces of Hell will be pissed, so it looks like it found a loophole, he's probably been doing this for as long as the violin itself existed."

"The Devil's Trill." Scott murmured to himself, "it _is_ cursed."

And even Stiles had nothing to say to that.


	4. Chapter Three

"So," Lydia said, smoothing out her wool skirt with the flat of her hands, "we find ourselves at an impasse."

"I don't understand." Scott said, and the man who had been leaning against the door moved forward, tapping his finger against the side of his mouth before he spoke. 

"I'll take this, Lydia," he said, and leant over the desk to talk to him. "I'm Peter, I'm Lydia's partner." He said then smiled at the room with a rather disappointed smirk, "since no one has taken the initiative to introduce me." Peter was a suave older man in a suede military style jacket over a grey henley, that wasn't entirely dissimilar to Hale's. He reminded Scott a little of him but not in temperament as Peter was personable and Hale was not."We have a small problem. I'll explain from the start. Just before the violin appeared there was a breach. There are several powerful statutes in place which keep demons to a localised area, a European demon of some considerable power broke through the seals holding them in place and moved somewhere else in the world. After a few weeks of investigation we tracked them to Beacon Hills just in time for Kate Argent to die. 

"From what we can tell from her journals," he reached behind him to lift a notebook with two luridly coloured penguins embracing, or wrestling perhaps, in front of a technicolor sky, it was held fast by a large red elastic band. It was almost offensive to look at.

"You read her journal?" Scott asked.

"Under protest," Peter said putting it on the table, "none of us wanted to touch it, we think the designer was on LSD at the time. It was the first hint of demon possession that we had. No one in their right mind would purchase this thing." No one laughed, Scott wasn't sure it was meant to be a joke. "But in her journal she spoke of being visited in a dream by the demon, who asked her all sorts of questions about Allison."

"That's her niece, she's at the school." Scott interrupted. "She's really pretty."

Peter nodded, talking over Scott like he hadn't spoken at all. "Kate was in Rome at the time, the demon gave her the violin and we think it used the violin itself to smuggle itself into the US." He had a slightly mocking tone of his voice, "he made the contract with Kate, and normally just getting into a new territory would be enough for most demons, but he wants her niece." He looked around the room, and then tapped his finger at the side of his mouth again. 

"Which is where we have the problem, the demon is attached to the violin and wants Allison, but when you received the cornea you took the contract for yourself, and even if we switched it out the contract would still hold, and it would simply give the demon another person to kill, so we can't do that." Stiles reached across the table and patted Scott's hand, trying to offer him comfort but Scott had no idea what the problem was. "You're safe here, but we can't stop the demon without knowing who he is, and we can't keep you here indefinitely, eventually time will restart. So we have an impasse. The demon can't openly move against us or you whilst your under our protection without risking the powers of Hell finding out, and they're much more dangerous than we are, and because we don't know who it is then we can't move against it."

"So what can you do?" Scott asked, taking a deep breath, "I mean if I was the demon I'd probably start killing people to draw me out." The idea terrified him, he only had his mom and his friends might get involved in this. The demon wouldn't do that to them, would it?

"Me too," Peter agreed, no one seemed surprised at how callous Peter was, it was one thing for a demon to talk like that, but Peter wasn't a demon. "So we send you back to school." He shrugged, like it was a foregone conclusion and everyone should agree with him simply because he was right.

"Peter!" Stiles protested, standing up and leaning on the table with both hands, "we'll be sending him to his death, the demon is trying to get him to kill himself so it looks like he's not breaking their taboo." The others nodded.

"We send you too, in fact, all four of us go undercover, Hale can continue to be the school doctor, you and Lydia can pass as students and I can teach, what it means is we'll be able to hit the ground running in case anything happens. We'll be like undercover bodyguards."

"I thought we didn't let you near impressionable school age kids any more." Hale drawled leaning back on his chair. “After what happened last time.”

"You teach one group of kids that Queen Elizabeth was a man in drag and they never let you forget it."

"That was the least of it," Stiles interrupted, "you also taught in astronomy that there was a missing planet in the solar system, that salt makes slugs explode, and a chemistry class how to make fire-bombs." Scott didn't even know where to look at that.

Peter laughed to himself, "in my defence, enough salt does make slugs pop, and kids prefer science that makes things explode." 

Stiles put his hands over the side of the cactus' head as if covering his ears. "Don't you listen to him, Riko," he said, "he's a bad, bad man." 

The shadows swirled in the room again, "oh, like I'm the most dangerous thing in this room." Peter smirked as the shadows crept up his leg and into his hand like a creeping ooze. The Shadow formed a ball which swirled for a second but crawling up his arm and down into the collar of his henley under his jacket before he popped his neck, the shadows crawling into his hair where it was slicked back from his face.

"Yes, boys," Lydia said, "you're all pretty pretty princesses, and you can all take me to the ball." Stiles laughed at that, and the tension seemed to leech out of the room. Scott got the impression that Lydia was used to defusing the tension in the room.

"How are you all going to pass? I mean, I can understand Stiles passing as a transfer student..." Scott genuinely had no idea how this was going to work.

Lydia laughed then, a rough gravelly sound through a perfectly lipsticked smile. "How do you think?" she started to waggle her fingers showing off her nail polish which exactly matched her suit. "Magic." She looked across at Stiles, "are you going to show him how you're going to do it."

"Think of a celebrity," he stopped, "okay, Richard Chamberlain works for me."

"Someone from his era, Stiles, not Derek's." Lydia chided softly. "Like Ryan Gosling."

"You always ask for Ryan Gosling." Hale pointed out under a raised eyebrow. "Richard Chamberlain would be a feat if only because you're forever asking for Ryan Gosling."

"And who blames me?" Lydia's smile was artfully innocent as she flicked her perfect hair from her face

"Okay, Riko, you hear that, we're going to be Ryan Gosling." Stiles told the little cactus. “Again.”

"Again?" the cactus asked and looked at Lydia, rolling his little black eyes with a huffing noise as Peter laughed. The cactus hopped until he was facing Peter and spat out a stream of water that hit him in the face. "Don't like you." It said, "we're not friends." This it appeared was normal because no one else noticed, in fact they pointedly didn't notice as Peter wiped his face with his hand.

Then the cactus, Riko, did the double hop again until he was facing Stiles as Peter wiped down his face. "We're goooonnnnnaaa bbbeeeee aaaawwwwweeeeeesssssoooommmeeee." The cactus grinned then, it was a really evil looking grin, "Moooon prism powwwweeeeer, MAKE UP!" it shouted and brought it's arms about in front of it's face, before shooting more water into the oval, to form a mirror. Stiles put his hand on the head then pushed his hand into the mirror that had formed there and changed. It was not like how Mystique changed in the X-men movies, Scott noticed, just that he changed completely, between one blink and the next Stiles was different, one moment he was Stiles and the next he really did appear to be Ryan Gosling. The transformation was amazing, then he opened his mouth, "I have to drink the water to get the voice, but I can do it too." Stiles said, "and everyone questioned why I chose a level one shiki for my thirteenth."

"Nine of the first twelve agreed to answer your summons because they felt sorry for you." Hale groused from the side, "and two more under the proviso you'd let them destroy things, the last one just didn't want to be left out."

Ryan-Gosling-Stiles raised his eyebrow and curled the corner of his mouth into a smile, "but, Derek," he whined, "Infinite Cosmic Pooowwweeeerrrrr."

"Itty bitty brain to mouth filter." Lydia finished. "Now, let's go catch us a demon."

 

\----

"This is a truly awful uniform," Stiles complained to Scott as he adjusted his jacket collar. He even lamented about the solid lace up shoes he was forced to wear instead of his battered vans sneakers. "The only thing I'm missing is a tie." He whined, sliding his hands through his hair before putting his head on the table, pushing aside the half empty bowl of cheerios that Scott's Mom had made him. She had just accepted that the school had asked her to foster a student on a trial basis over a few weeks and that she had previously agreed and that there had been money involved to keep him. When Scott had asked how it had happened, Stiles had just grinned and waggled his fingers as he said “magic”.

Stiles also cooked even though he had brought the offensive cactus with him, it was so brightly cheerful that there were times in the weekend before school started that Scott wanted nothing more than to smash it's pot, especially since he had taught Stiles to play “Call of Duty” and Riko had learnt the new shout "boom! Headshot!" Scott couldn't say he loved the fact that even the pot plants were now laughing at his game.

Stiles had no idea about modern movies, in fact apart from “The Notebook” he knew nothing after movies with James Dean in them, but he fell in love with the Batman movies and wanted to be Batman, and had appeared on the landing scaring the hell out of Scott and going "I am Batman," and laughed and laughed. It made Scott wonder but Stiles just said that it was different when he was alive, and left it at that, but he had found the money to buy "Rebel without a cause" on Blu ray because Scott had never seen it and that was a bigger tragedy than Scott was being hunted by a demon who wanted him to kill himself, swallow his soul and the girl he wanted to date, because if nothing else he had Stiles to watch his back.

Stiles, it turned out, could play the drums. It was something he had learned whilst in EnMaCho as they tried to find ways to curb what was clearly a rather severe case of ADHD. He could also play the flute but lacked the patience to be any good at it, but the school taught both so he was conscripted into lessons for both, even though he had draped himself over Scott, claiming that they were new best friends and would be until Scott forgot him, and whined that they wouldn't be in the same classes. Sometimes, no Scott corrected, most times, it was easy to forget that Stiles was a bad ass supernatural creature. Actually no, if Scott didn't have a talking cactus on his desk trying to help with his homework he would have never believed it.

Danny picked them up for school, Stiles, skinnier than Scott, wedged in the back between Isaac and Boyd because Danny was the only one with a car, and whilst it was possible to carry a violin case on your back whilst you cycled the same could not be said for Isaac's harp. "That dog's back," Isaac said from the window, because he was the tallest he was the one with the most leg room whilst Stiles was shoved in the middle. "Thing gives me the creeps." It was just sitting there on the corner watching them, but when Stiles turned it's head it stood up, twisted it's head away and wandered off, nonchalant.

"Is this where we all sing Bohemian Rhapsody?" Stiles asked then, changing the subject.

"No," Isaac answered calmly as Danny just stared at him in horror.

\---

Allison was sat on one of the large stone blocks that were on either side of the entrance path to the school's main doors, with a novel open on her knee when Scott went up to her, as bashful and shy as a large puppy, and Isaac muttered it was only a matter of time before he put his front paws down, his head between them and his ass in the air begging her to play. She smiled at the group before her eyes focussed in with laser like precision on Stiles, and her eyebrows tilted just a little into the centre. "You must be the transfer student my Mom was complaining about today," she said, offering her hand, "I'm Allison, and may I just say, you have the most remarkable eyes, such an unusual colour." She smiled at him and Stiles thought that puppy-Scott might growl, "I mean it's like set honey, you probably get lots of comments on them."

Stiles didn't get a lot of comments on his eyes because he was wearing a glamour that made his eyes as black as Scott's own. It was very strange that Allison could see the colour his eyes were in EnMaCho. He suddenly wanted to know what she saw when she looked at Hale, would it be gruff male doctor with the slightly pointed ears and the grey green eyes, or would it be the pale demon with the blood red chevrons, the very pointed ears and the lavender coloured eyes that Stiles knew. 

The magic of Meifu and the shiki changed them physically, but in the physical realm those changes weren't so apparent, and even if they were Riko's magic should have prevented anything leeching through, but Allison could see his eyes. He would have to test that, but that meant he would have to convince her into the nurse's office to meet Derek, Peter and Lydia looked more human than either Stiles or Derek, Peter's eyes went black when he lost his temper so as long as he kept calm the shadows wouldn't react, and Lydia's ability was technological so unless Allison was actually in the same room as the machines that served her, often to the point of dragging themselves across rooms by the wires to please her, she wouldn't see anything.

Cell phones were known to ring when Lydia was around, just to tell her that they were there, like puppies barking to get the attention of their owners. It was amazing to watch.

"Allison," Stiles said with a grin, "could you point me to the nurse's office, I have a medical condition I need to be sure that they're made aware of," Allison had a lovely shy smile, Stiles noted as beside him Scott practically melted under the power of her dimples. She offered to take him, but Stiles begged her off, it wouldn't do to reveal Hale to her just yet.

 

\--

Stiles slid into the seat beside Scott in the classroom, "She's cute." He said, looking across at Allison who was laughing with Erica, "I can see why you like her." It was easy for Stiles to sit with them in this lesson as Boyd, who would normally have sat with them, wasn't in this class.

"She's perfect, isn't she?" Scott sighed, he genuinely sighed as he smiled across the table at her, "and she's really nice, and she has these dimples."

"And she can hear you." Erica answered from across the table as Allison blushed prettily.

"And," Allison said trying to change the subject as their teacher, Peter, Stiles noted - which meant a crazy lesson, arranged his things and wrote his name on the board. "Has anyone else noticed that creepy guy with the dog?" She asked, "I mean he's everywhere and he just stares."

"I've seen a dog," Isaac said, "it's like a really creepy Doberman."

"The one with the smile," Danny agreed, "seriously, I didn't know dogs could smile let alone that smile. It's super creepy, it's like he's already licking your spleen, like it knows your secrets." Allison nodded, "but I haven't seen a man with him." 

"You should report him to a teacher if he comes back, maybe that new nurse, he's built, he could scare him off." Stiles added, if there was a man lurking about Derek could take care of it without turning into a Kaiju. He was scary enough in his human form, even without the pointed ears and teeth. 

"He carried Scott out of class when he fainted," Danny said, "like he was made of air." There was a sigh, actually Stiles noted, there were three sighs. 

"And his ass!" Isaac added. "A straight man would waver at that ass."

"The thighs." Erica agreed, "you could bounce a penny off them."

"Good morning, class." Peter interrupted, "I'm your substitute teacher." The board did look suspiciously clean, Stiles noticed, almost as if it was entirely covered in shadows, which Stiles did not put past Peter, the shadow-caster loved working with shadows and, like Jackie Estacado, was never really that far from them. Stiles had only just learned about Jackie Estacado because Scott had the video game and it was awesome, and he would have to get a system when he went back to Meifu, just so he could see the look on Peter's face when he realised he had been made into a game. "And I have read over the notes that were left by your previous teacher and decided that they were boring, so instead of what he intended for your musical theory lecture, we're going to talk about myths, and the myths surrounding pieces of music, like curses, can anyone supply for me a famous piece of literature, music or otherwise, which is supposed to be cursed?"

"The Scottish play." Someone chimed in from the back.

Peter's smile was oily, it started in one corner of his mouth then slid to the other. "Good example, now how is the Scottish play cursed?" And so the lesson went on, because as much as Stiles might want to deny it, Peter was a good teacher, he just happened to be crazy with it, and his lesson plan allowed them to discuss the Devil's Trill without question, even referencing the fact that Scott had fainted whilst trying to play it. It was clever, but Peter always was.

\---

Whilst walking between lessons, with Boyd and Isaac, Scott was in a one on one lesson, which every student had at least once a week even with the group sessions, when Allison stopped stock still in front of them. "There he is." She said to Danny, "the man with the dog, beside the new library."

Stiles scanned the area, he could see the dog, but there was no man at all, so he shifted his gaze to the spectral realm, a thing which caused Riko's illusion to falter over his eyes, bringing back their pale yellow colour if anyone had cared to look, but they were all too busy staring at the dog and looking for the man. Allison was right, there was a man there, in a long coat and hat looking like the stereotypic villain from a slasher movie with dark red aviator sunglasses. Stiles shifted his vision against to see if he could see the demon's true form, but a wave of nausea came over him strong enough to make him stumble. "I," he said, "nurse's office, yeah."

"Stiles," Isaac asked, catching him as he wobbled, "you look awful, do you want me to go with you?"

"Just want out of Harris' class," Stiles slurred. He knew who the demon was, there could be no doubt. He needed to talk to Derek, now, he needed to talk to Peter and Lydia too, but Derek was his partner, and there and then on the side of the path Stiles vomitted.

\---

Isaac took Stiles to the nurse's office, despite Stiles' protestations that he was fine and he could manage on his own, and then he seemed to hover even when Hale had assured him Stiles was in good hands and it was nothing, just a nervous reaction and it happened sometimes. It was why the nurse's office had a file on him, really, he's fine, now go to class. Because Derek was curt and firm and actually pushing him towards the door with his body, because Derek understood Stiles just needed to brush his teeth and report.

When Isaac was safely gone he said, "it's Deucalion." The name left an oily film in his mouth like the vomit had, "and I know why he wants Allison, the whole thing was to get Allison. She can see us, this morning she saw my eyes like I wasn't wearing a glamour, and he was there and she could see him when the rest of them could only see his dog form, when I altered my gaze to the other planes I saw him too, when I looked further he sent me a psychic attack, I wasn't shielding."

Hale was sat in his chair now, and crossed his arms across his chest. "Fuck." He said, Stiles thought he had summed it up beautifully.

\---

Lydia crossed her legs, sat on the nurse's chair in the office, leaving the others to stand or sit on the cot along the wall. Peter was sat next to Stiles on the cot as if the world didn't matter leaving Derek and Scott the only one standing. "We know who the demon is, he's not been very subtle." She said, using her hand to sweep her hair from her face. "No, he's been very blatant, he doesn't consider us a threat."

"That's because we aren't one." Peter said, not even bothering to lie, "at all, not even close." Hale's arms tightened and Stiles made a huffing disgruntled noise. They might not like it, but it was true.

"But," Scott protested. No one really paid him much attention.

"It's like this," Lydia said patiently, "we're not quite gods, we're definitely powerful, some of us more than others," she flicked her eyes at Hale, "but he's very powerful. He's a Duke of Hell in his own right, which explains how he circumvented the wards preventing him travelling from Europe so easily. He is a chief advisor to the Triumvirate of Hell. He could destroy us by sneezing."

"Then why isn't he attacking?" Scott looked, around the room at all of them, for an answer.

"Because demons are bound by rules and laws." Stiles said as he started to pick at his thumbnail with the fingers of the other hand in a nervous gesture. "There are forces more powerful than demons and shinigami and shiki put together that forced a truce. That truce meant that demons could beguile and trick but couldn't outright attack. Have you ever heard of a medieval mystery play?" he asked, "no, you wouldn't have, they don't teach it any more, the idea was that there was this one man and he had an demon on his left shoulder and an angel on his right, and they'd whisper in his ear and he'd make decisions based on what they said. If he listened to the angel he went to heaven and if he listened to the devil and gave into his base instincts he'd go to hell. It's a pretty apt analogy even if it's not specifically right."

"Deucalion wants Allison, probably because she can see the supernatural. If she was snapped up by the other side, or even us, it would massively impede a demon's ability to meddle." Hale cut in.

Scott looked like a kicked puppy. "Did I do this?" He asked in a small voice.

"No," Hale said with a vehemence that surprised Scott. "The Demon did this, he probably picked Kate when she was on tour in his territory because it knew about Allison, she would be a tremendous prize to any demon, because she can see the supernatural it means he could make a move against EnMaCho, GenSouKai, any of the realms."

"He could even use her for a coup." Lydia added, "if she can see demons in their true form when they're weak outside their own realms. He could slaughter other demons left and right if he caught her. So he used Kate's desperation and desire to make her make the deal."

"From what we can tell from her diary, she didn't even know she was making the deal." Peter said, "she thought it was a dream, we've got the paper pushers checking to see if the deal is valid because she didn't know."

"But for us to mount any kind of offensive against him we need to move him to Meifu where we're stronger, so we need you to do something for us." Lydia leant forward as Peter reached into the blackness behind him, his own shadow, and pulled out the violin. Scott would know it anywhere, it felt like part of him, and he almost snatched it, feeling a little like gollum. It was his and he wanted it. "We're going to take you to Meifu, and we're going to burn the violin there."

"But it's a priceless instrument." Scott protested lurching forward, "it's like a part of me, you don't understand no instrument will ever sound as good when I play it, without it I'm no good, I'm." Peter slipped the violin back into the shadows and Scott dropped down into a crouch, "oh my god, what is it doing to me? I?" He knew how desperate he said when he asked, but they didn't seem to notice.

"It's possessed with a lot of Deucalion's power." Lydia said reaching over to pat Scott awkwardly on the head, to reassure him. "It wants you to have it so it can, combined with the contract, force you to kill yourself, because then Deucalion didn't kill you and because you're dead then he can take the item he wanted, Allison. In this case even Kate wasn't at fault, the demon did this, and it's doing this to you now. Peter is blocking the instrument's influence but it's not permanent. If we take the violin back to Meifu Deucalion will think we're sequestering it, putting it aside so it won't do any more harm, but when we destroy it he will come to claim it back, to take back his power, and we can face him."

"And defeat him, right?" Scott asked, "and save Allison."

"We can certainly try." Lydia said, "we're more powerful than you think, and certainly more powerful than he thinks. This is what we do, Scott, leave it to us, now you run along to class." Scott stood up and offered them a smile, "We'll do this when the day is over." Stiles joined him, “no matter what, Scott,” Lydia continued, “we've got your back.”

Peter waited until Scott was out of earshot before he said, "that was cruel, Lyds," he said, "we're fucked and you know it." Hale nodded

"Yeah," Lydia said, "but he doesn't need to know that."


	5. Chapter Four

Meifu was a world unto itself with cities and rivers and mountains and it was in a wide open prairie that Stiles took Scott. There was a hot sweet wind that rolled across it, and swayed the long grass like a tide, but there was no animals, and no insects, just grass and the occasional empty space, where the wind had scoured away the grass.

"Look," Stiles said, putting his hand on Scott's shoulder to reassure him, "we know we're asking a lot of you, but this is important, and you're going to see things which are mind bending and magnificent and terrifying but we need you to stay back, okay, some of us," his eyes flicked to Hale, "have enough guilt on our shoulders, getting you hurt shouldn't be part of it."

Scott nodded, and agreed, he didn't know what they wanted, but he could stay out of the way. "Just tell me what to do."

Stiles had a winning grin, and even Hale made a harrumphing noise that sounded proud. "Put the violin in that hole there," there was one there, it looked like a crater and Scott for a moment wondered just how many battles had been fought here, "pour on the gasoline and stand well back." 

Hale lifted his bow. He was wearing loose clothes that made him look something like a samurai, if they had pointed ears and fangs, Stiles was wearing a loose pair of jeans and a hooded plaid shirt and was rolling his shoulders and neck like he was trying to keep his muscles loose. He was bare foot and Scott felt overdressed in his school uniform. "Derek participates in the Meifu archery tournament every year, just because he doesn't win doesn't mean he can't hit a barn door at this distance." Derek pulled a face. "He'll light the fire with the bow, and the demon will show, and he's going to be pissed and make a move towards you, we'll cut him off, stay back, Lydia and Peter will do their best to protect you, because if something happens to you he can make a move on Allison, okay." Scott nodded, feeling useless. "So we need you to be safe, we should be able to get him to back off. So,” he swallowed, “let's do this." 

Scott took the violin case, which was covered with little white strips of paper like the stickers you saw on old suitcases in movies, each one covered in bright red Chinese writing. He had to break one of them to open the case, where the violin sat on it's bed of red velvet. Seeing it was like taking a breath when you hadn't realised you weren't breathing. It was like slipping into a warm bath at the end of a long hard day, or the warm comfort of your bed when you woke up and realised you didn't have to get up yet. He had said it was like a part of him, but it was the best of him, it was everything he wanted to be.

He touched one of the strips of paper and it was like an electric shock clearing his thoughts, so, he thought, that's what they are- spells to keep the magic in the violin contained. He snapped the case closed with a fuck it - the case could go as well, carrying it over to the crater, then snapping it open. On Stiles' command he turned and ran. He ran like the Coach at his old school was behind him with a big dog and he had bacon stapled to his pants. It was something Coach had always threatened but had never done, well as far as anyone knew, but Scott ran that day like the creepy dog that had been following him was barking and growling and after him.

It must have been 300 yards to where Peter and Lydia stood, behind a small ditch that reached to their waists, enough to shield them but not to obstruct the view if they wanted to watch. "Peter!" Stiles called back as he pulled his hoodie free and threw it to the side. Peter nodded and a sheet of solid black went up and over them, it was dark for a moment before the light filtered through and the shadow orb he had created was like darkened glass. 

Hale lifted his bow, brought the arrow up in a strangely formal gesture. There was something hanging on the tip like a small jug. "It ignites on contact." Lydia said, "it's my own recipe. Keep your head down."

The arrow raised in a perfect arc before it landed in the crater. Stiles had said that Hale was capable of hitting a barn door but he did hit the crater which exploded into a very impressive pillar of flame. Derek shirked off his shirt to reveal a large tattoo between his shoulders as he hunched over, before his pants fell in a pool around his ankles and he began to shift. From his viewpoint Scott couldn't see the actual transition but it looked painful, as his muscles and bones popped and spread and he started to spread. The only thing that Scott could think of in comparison was a movie he had seen once where a kid had turned into this giant marshmallow creature in pops and blurts, one limb expanding before the others and the whole process looked hideously painful, but eventually where Derek had stood was a creature, what Stiles had called a Kaiju and Scott might not know what the word meant but one thing he did know was he didn't know a single other word to cover what Derek had become.

He looked sort of like a cross between a dragon, a large dog, a lion and a bird, if they were all rabid and intent on destroying Tokyo. He genuinely looked like the sort of monster that the Power Rangers had fought, except without looking quite so much like a man in a rubber suit. If Scott hadn't been so amazed at the transformation he would have shit himself in fear, and he knew it. "Holy Shit!" He exclaimed. "That is AWESOME!"

Stiles was changing too, but it was more subtle, his hair went grey, that brilliant cartoon silver blue that you saw sometimes on anime villains as tattoos inched down his arms and up his neck, alchemical circles spiralled out around them, well, that's what Scott guessed that they were, because he could only see their light from where he was, but a pair of wings, made entirely out of light erupted from his back and erupted into gold and silver shards that rained down around him.

[](http://s11.photobucket.com/user/seraphim_grace/media/TDT_1_-_Stiles_Derek_Transformed_zps135e39b7.jpg.html)

The fire was changing too.

There was something in it, something dark and twisting with a human face but a deer's body and it's tail seemed to have a serpent's head, there were wings there, dark and shadowed like a bat. "That is not awesome!" Scott said taking a step back, "what the fuck is that thing?"

"That," Peter told him, "is a Duke of Hell." He sounded disturbed and with good reason, the thing was terrifying. Lydia was frowning, squatting where they were and clutching her hat to her head.

Both Stiles and Derek, in their transformed states lunged against the demon and it was chaos, and fire and Scott could hear Stiles shouting as if he was stood beside them, even as a great balls of oily flame rolled off the shield Peter had made and Lydia did things on an ipad which were entirely insane. "KuriKaraKen!" Stiles shouted and there was a dragon there. It was an honest to goodness dragon. Red and Gold and a DRAGON!

Then Stiles was flying backwards, the attack from the dragon not being enough to stop the demon picking him up in it's claws like he was an action figure and throwing him. But he shouted something else, something that sounded like Tengu Futago, or Pingu Football, Scott wasn't sure, and two black figures erupted out of a shower of feathers to catch him, although the force of it drove them all back.

The Hale creature roared and leaped at the demon, grabbing it around the throat of it's deer neck and twisting. The demon took the opportunity to bite Hale hard on the shoulder, but Hale's grip was tight. "OKAMI!" Stiles shouted and a white wolf appeared out of the air to twist around Derek before diving into the space between his shoulders, so hot looking red flames formed down his sides and he jerked his head back and ripped the demon's throat out in a terrible spray of black blood. Then the demon and the fire was gone, and Hale, looking human now but still covered in the red marks was collapsing to his knees as Stiles ran to him. The shield went down and Lydia took off at a run.

Peter was catching up, "come on, Scott," he said. So Scott joined them in running although he wasn't sure that the demon was gone.

Lydia reached Hale first, turning him over and ripping at the red marks that Stiles' magic had left of him, which came off like sticky tape with a ripping sound leaving red welts in their place. "Lydia, what are you doing?" Stiles asked, he was still deep in the magic and his voice sounded strange and echoey and it was possible that he did not realise that he was floating a few inches off the ground. So much had happened to Scott in such a short time that it was possible he had gone into shock and that was why he wasn't reacting. 

He was sure he was going to have an epic breakdown later.

"Demons possess things," she answered shouting, as she ripped off more and more of the red marks, "I'm looking for his mark, what did you think I was doing?" Scott had a few opinions because Hale, it turned out, had an amazing body, even if he had hidden it under ugly suits and the strange samurai thing he had been wearing before. Erica had underestimated him, he was much hotter than he had appeared in the school. Scott would have to tell her. "It's okay." She said offering Hale a hand up, "you're clean."

"Is that it?" Scott asked. "Did you kill the demon?"

Stiles looked a bit abashed, "I think so," he said, "although it was a bit easy."

"Suspiciously easy," Peter said, thought Scott hadn't thought it looked easy at all. "We'll check with the Count, but it does look like it, yes, Derek ripped it's throat out."

"With his teeth." Stiles finished flicking his eyes to Derek who made a sort of exhausted chuff of laughter at some sort of private joke between them.

\---

Scott was filling out paperwork in Lydia's small office when the zombie came in. It was a small zombie, not much larger than a preschooler, with green skin, one eye, most of it's teeth missing, and a bald head. It was also wearing a vest and tuxedo pants with a lap apron. Scott, who had been filling out the most banal forms in triplicate, white for his records, gold for Lydia's and pink for the GuShoShin, with actual carbon paper between them, had what he considered a normal reaction to a zombie knocking and entering the office. His first though was oh, a zombie, his second was, but of course, where else would you expect to see a zombie but in the Land of the Dead, his third was oh fuck! A zombie! as he attempting to climb unto the desk as far away from it as he could get.

He was more surprised when the zombie stumbled over to him and handed him an envelope. It didn't attempt to bite him, or growl or anything like he expected, it just held out the embossed envelope like this was perfectly normal, and judging by Lydia's reaction it probably was.

“Thanks, Watson,” she said, taking the letter when it was clear that Scott wasn't getting any closer. The zombie, Watson, gurgled something and then stumble-shuffled back to the open door.

“That's just Watson,” Lydia said with a laugh, “of all the strange things around here Watson is positively normal.” Lydia had a point, there was an army of flying beret wearing chickens here. Hale had turned into a giant wolf-dragon-lizard beast and Stiles could levitate. He supposed in the manner of things a miniature zombie postman wasn't worth mentioning.

Lydia broke the seal with a painted nail, and then frowned a little to herself, looked at Scott, and then frowned again. “You have an audience,” she said, “with the Count, at the Castle of Candles, he's invited you to high tea.”

“I,” Scott just didn't have words.

“ It's okay,” Lydia said, putting the embossed invitation down, “Watson makes a lovely sandwich, and your uniform is more than suitable, not sure about the sneakers though.” Because this was the Land of the Dead, Scott thought, and strange just didn't cut it.

\---

The Castle of Candles didn't look very much like a castle until Watson opened the door to reveal the wide staircase and open floor. It looked like an office building that sort of sprung up amongst the cherry blossoms. Inside there was a chandelier and a stained glass window and the bannisters looked to be made of marble, but everything was covered in candles, all of which were lit, but the room was actually a little cold. There were candles everywhere, flickering and glowing, but they gave off no heat. In the middle of them, because there was a little path through which Watson moved with a sort of lumbering stumbling gait that Scott supposed was pretty normal for a miniature zombie, he couldn't focus on it too much because he had the impression he'd probably have a screaming nervous breakdown if he did, stood a man playing a violin. 

No, Scott corrected himself, because the man was invisible, all Scott could see was a demi mask, the sort the phantom of the Opera wore, and a pair of gloves, and they were hanging in mid air like someone was wearing them, and that someone was playing the violin - badly. In fact, he appeared to be playing "Hungry like the wolf" so Scott was considering that the screaming nervous breakdown was more likely to happen than not.

"Ah," the mask said, putting the violin down, "Scott, welcome to the Castle of Candles." He made a sweeping gesture but managed to completely miss every candle when he did so, which was a feat because they were literally everywhere. "It's okay," the mask continued, "you can't hurt the candles, not from here."

"What are they?" he asked, his eyes flickering everywhere trying to take it all in.

"Each candle is a human life." The Count told him, moving down the stairs, with slow measured steps, the gold filigree on his mask catching the flickering candle light. "See how some are long and newly lit and others burned almost to the ground. Each candle is the length of a human life, it's how we measure them, some burn after the wax is gone and some are snuffed out before their time." He sounded a little patronising as he spoke, Scott thought, the others here had been patient, "and in Special Divisions they investigate why."

"Stiles told me that." Scott said as Watson shuffled back in, this time with a tea tray held in one hand, that rattled and sloshed about, but without spilling a drop of either the milk or the tea.

"Yes, I imagine he did." The Count said, taking a cup of tea from the miniature zombie, Scott was willing to admit he was a little stuck on that detail. "Did he explain about my Shinigami?"

"He said that they were people who were chosen to find out why." The count sipped his tea, before he moved his free hand and a path cleared itself in the candles, and a set of double doors opened to reveal a small sitting room, again everything was covered in candles, but there was no heat or even light from them. Each existed within a sort of bubble for themselves and nothing else existed for them. It was a strange and wonderful thing to see. 

"Sit, sit," the count gestured to a chair as the candles on it seemed to fade out of reality and reappeared somewhere else. Scott sat, the chair was surprisingly comfortable as Watson made a sort of growling sound and pushed the tea tray at him. Unsure what else to do Scott took a cup of tea, Lydia had said that Watson wasn't the sort of zombie that bit, but he was a zombie with a mission, and currently that mission was to make Scott drink tea. When he had the cup, Watson poured the tea, added a little milk and a sugar cube, without asking how Scott wanted it, or even if he wanted those things, and made a happy grumble, before he put the tray down on a now cleared table and waddled off.

"It is very difficult," the count said around his teacup, "to be chosen as a shinigami, in all of the world there are eight divisions, each with no more than six shinigami, some of which are older than the tides themselves." He sounded resolute, but distant. "Stiles is older than he looks, he is the oldest of the American division." That surprised Scott because Stiles looked the youngest but also backed down from them. "He has had many partners, I am delighted to see how well he and Hale get along."

"You want to talk to me about Stiles?" Scott asked, he had thought that he had been invited here because he was being asked to join their ranks.

"Yes," the count said and there was a noise like he was crossing his legs, if he had them, leaning back in the chair. "Stiles is very dear to me, and I have noticed how well the two of you get along, I was wondering if you would mind if I allowed him a sabbatical in your company."

"What has it to do with me?" Scott asked, this conversation had clearly gotten away from him. And Watson was coming back, with cake.

"I had thought he might attend school with you." The count told him, "because in all the time that Stiles has served in Meifu he has had partners and work colleagues, and Hale, but you are the closest he has ever had to a friend." There was something sad there. "I should explain how the Shinigami are chosen, Scott, so you understand why this is such a problem." The count paused for a moment, taking a plate of cake from Watson, complete with a tiny fork, before Watson carried the second plate over to Scott. The whole experience, Scott found, was so surreal that he was wondering if he had had the screaming nervous breakdown and not noticed.

"For a Shinigami to be created there has to be a very specific confluence of events, a rather tragic one unfortunately." He stopped, making a happy sound around the cake he spooned into his mouth. "They must have an affinity for the supernatural, much like your Allison, who can see through glamours, and they must be murdered before their time by something supernatural. I shall tell you Stiles' story, simply because you will forget it when you return to the human world." 

Scott took a forkful of the cake, which was thick with whipped cream, and really good. Watson might have been a miniature green rotting zombie, but he could bake.

"Stiles' mother was a twin, and she died in childbirth, and the two sisters had a reputation for being cursed but very beautiful. Terrified of having to raise his son alone Stiles' father married his mother's sister, it was a sham marriage, and then he went to war leaving her behind with his young child. It was a common thing to do then.

“By then Stiles was a toddler with incredible empathic abilities, and his step mother believing the child to be possessed of the devil but worried her rich husband would cast her out if she harmed the boy, locked him in the attic. Stiles literally grew up as a prisoner in his own home because of his own abilities. Cruel, but we would not have noticed him for just that." The count stopped, took another mouthful of his cake and chewed thoughtfully before he continued. "Then one night he snuck out, it wasn't the first time, because he wanted to see the great Snake which haunted his step mother and to visit his mother's grave. He did that a lot. He was maybe twelve at the time."

There was another pause. "Unfortunately another magic user had heard of the curse and the twins and took the opportunity to dig up Stiles' mother and Stiles disturbed him. He found the boy with all the magic he had heard of and he cast a spell on him, carved it into his very flesh, and started to leech the magic from him. Stiles didn't tell anyone what had happened." The cake plate shattered in the gloved hands and if he had have had an expression Scott guessed it would have been tight, "he cleaned himself off, wiped down the cuts, and went back to the attic, where over the course of the next six months he sickened and died. He was so full of fear and rage that there was no one left to watch over his father that he was a perfect candidate, and we did our best to give him a family, but ultimately we couldn't.

"Three years at school is such a little thing, would you watch him?"

"But he's," Scott protested, "he took down that demon, he was really bad ass."

The count leaned forward in his chair, templing his gloves under his mask. "And?" he asked. "I think you misunderstand. There are four aspects of the realm the dead. There is EnMaCho, which is the civil service, there is Meifu, the special investigations unit, there is GenSouKai, where the gods dwell, and there is Hades for the dead." He stopped letting Scott take the information in. "The Gods are fond of Stiles and they fight on his behalf, he summoned them to fight the demon, he did not do it himself, just as Hale is possessed and can transform Stiles can call on them to help him, because ultimately he will always be their baby, because he was only a child when he came here, do you understand?" Scott nodded slowly. Stiles didn't have friends, he was coddled by a lot of older things. "A couple of years in an American high school is not a lot to ask, all I ask, and it is a request, is that you watch for him whilst he's there?"

"What about Hale?" Scott asked.

"What about him? Stiles will still return to the house he shares with him when he's not in school, or hanging with human friends his own age. I saw him at the school, one day and he looked happier than I have seen him in centuries, and it has been centuries." The count said. "You don't have to say yes, but the two of you got along so well." 

"You can't make someone be friends." Scott protested. It seemed like it was self evident but at the same time he was talking to an invisible man who was wearing a demi mask like the phantom of the opera and white gloves so perhaps just basic common sense didn't apply here.

"No, but I can try." The count protested. "and also, it means he can watch Allison, she might not fit the criteria, but she's at risk. You won't remember this, the things that happen in Meifu will fade like smoke, because it is the nature of things, you will return to Assiah and you will grow up and forget that once a boy and a possessed man saved you from a demon." Watson shuffled over and offered Scott a violin case. "For letting us destroy the other. I shall get Hale to take you back in the morning. Enjoy tonight, I imagine the shinigami will have a party to celebrate."

\---

It was not a party that Scott was invited to, because there wasn't nearly enough of them to warrant it being called a party, but it was definitely a celebration that had been catered by the Japanese girl who had made lunch the last time Scott was here. There were cakes and alcoholic drinks and no one seemed to care if Scott was drinking because after all they had saved him, even if Peter did maintain it was suspiciously easy, but they were willing to take all the suspiciously easy once in a while because their job was hard.

The Japanese girl showed up with her arms full of boxes, she wore a blue sailor dress and had some of her hair pulled up in two pink ribbons, and she was beaming, but Peter insisted that was her usual mood, she was just bright and bonny all the time, and Stiles was running some sort of interference between her and Hale because she was really tactile and apparently bad things happened when Wakaba touched Derek, but Hale didn't seem to notice. Perhaps it was just that common. 

She took one of the bottles of sake and with a wink and bow, that was just a little suggestive, she winked out of the room like she had never been there. Apparently that was perfectly normal too because no one questioned it, just chided that they should eat all the cakes before the rest of the Japanese division showed up, because apparently they were terrible for it.

One of the GuShoShin was sprawled out in a pastry box, with crumbs and jelly around it's beak making those "I have eaten far too much" groans, and no one had any sympathy for it, but the sake was warm and sweet with cherry blossoms and the music was jolly, even if it was really old fashioned, and Peter might have threatened a strip tease and Derek didn't react to that even though everyone expected him to.

Then there was singing, and it involved the chief, a mysterious dour figure, and Finstock who was a bit crazy and had given a bizarre speech which Stiles told him came from a movie, and wandered off, after asking Lydia to rig up a karaoke machine out of nothing, and she did, as he stripped down to just his shirt and belting out a loud and out of key version of "My Way" and everyone was laughing and there was sake and cake and this pink plum wine that tasted like candy and methylated spirits and went down too easy, and then Scott found himself singing "American Pie" as Derek watched him, and then he and Stiles did a version of YMCA that involved far too much movement and it was like they were playing twister and by that point Peter was asleep in the corner and snoring and Lydia had draped herself over him like a blanket telling anyone that came near that she would not be moved, but she needed more wine.

Then Stiles was laughing and saying he needed to take Scott back to the room that they had for him, he was staying in the infirmary and Scott was very drunk, he knew it because his lips were numb and he'd had to pee ten times in as many minutes it felt like. "I'll do it," Hale said, "I didn't drink as much as the rest of you, I don't like the fruity stuff." 

Stiles gave him a funny look, "kay," he said, "I just need to pee, comin', Scott? then I'll go home and find the aspirin, kay."

And Derek just smiled at him and Scott couldn't help but feel that it was a cold smile but it was probably the alcohol, there had been so much of it, of course it was the alcohol, Derek didn't have a smile like that at all.

 

\--- 

"I know it was agreed you'd stay in the infirmary tonight," Derek said as he unlocked the door, "but I thought you'd be more comfortable if you stayed here – with me." It was a small, well appointed apartment with a thin narrow hallway leading to a small, comfortable sitting area, where there were tee shirts draped over the back of the couch and a new games console, still sat on it's box with the polystyrene packing around it, hooked up to a brand new television. The place was clean but cluttered, like the person who lived there had been distracted with other things and just left their tasks half done, and there were framed posters on the wall for movies from the 1930's, black and white horror movies that Scott had never heard of, like M, Faust and Metropolis. There was a pair of used coffee cups in the sink, one leaning against the other, although there was only one bedroom, that Scott could see. Two winter coats hung on hooks by the door, and the slippers left by the entrance to the bathroom looked a little too small for Hale's large feet.

"Are you sure this is okay?" Scott asked, "I don't want to put anyone out."

"It's fine, I want you to." Derek said, leaning into him, and dragging his nose the length of his neck and taking a deep loud breath. "The wine has made me a little bold." He qualified, but Scott didn't remember seeing Hale drink.

"I," Scott said as the tip of Hale's nose dragged up along the line of Scott's neck, his fangs just showing. 

"You said you were grateful for us saving you," Hale said and his eyes were glowing, a hard metallic lavender colour that was clearly unnatural, a reminder that Derek might have been human but he wasn't now, and his hands were curled around Scott's upper arms. "Do you want to show me how much?" Hale kissed him, it was a rough kiss with fangs and hard lips and Scott pulled back for a breath but Derek's hands were tight on his arms. "Close your eyes," Hale whispered into his ear, "it's easier that way, the first time." Then he pushed Scott backwards unto the couch. "You said you'd do anything, give it to me." Hale's hands cupped his jaw, "give me your body," the claws dragged softly along his neck to his collar bones, Hale using his larger bulk to crowd Scott into the couch, as he leant in to kiss at Scott's neck, "your soul," he murmured, and ripped his throat out, with his claws. He was careful to avoid the arteries, just severing the windpipe so he couldn't breathe. "So beautiful like this," Hale said, licking his lips, "all this blood, and your skin, like honey, and look," he turned Scott's head with his hand, "a full moon, just to watch this," he put his hands, claws extended to his left eye and pierced it but Scott couldn't scream, as Hale licked his fingers clean, one by one with a slow broad tongue. "Just to watch the contract being completed."


	6. Chapter Five

"Derek is possessed." Stiles said sitting on the table and pulling his legs up after him so he was sat cross legged.

Lydia turned around, "are you sure?" she asked, her legs primly pressed together at an angle under her pencil skirt, showing the perfect line of calf and shoe, one she had spent a long time perfecting. "I checked him pretty thoroughly."

Stiles sighed and flicked his eyes to Peter who was lurking against the wall. "I'm more than sure, the infection probably spread slowly, there must have been venom in the bite on his shoulder. We can't let Derek know that we know, at the moment we have the upper hand over Deucalion, but that could change at any moment."

"But how are you sure?" Peter pressed, "Derek is immune to any empathy you have. He always has been."

"He's been my partner for years," Stiles answered calmly, "I know him very well, and I know when he's acting strangely, and he's been very strange since the battle. For fuck's sake, we had a karaoke machine and he didn't just get drunk and sing "You're my best friend" or "Sweet Caroline" for hours, that's reason enough to be suspicious." Lydia conceded that point.

"Where's Allison?" Peter asked, "if he has Derek he'll use him to break the contract with Scott and make a move towards her, we need to get her to safety."

"She's still in the EnMaCho bunker." Lydia said, "where we moved her before we went against Deucalion, she's under an enchantment, she's asleep, and has no idea she's not in her own bed." Peter nodded, letting out a slow breath. "What are we going to.....?" he was cut off by a huge explosion, the room rocking and dust falling from the ceiling as the windows shattered inwards.

"We're going to do our best to stop that." Lydia said.

Stiles licked his lips as he pushed himself standing, "I'll do my best to keep the demon busy, Peter, go to the bunker, protect Allison at any cost. Lydia, what we discussed, we're going to have to do that." 

Lydia nodded, adjusting the small hat perched on her head, "Stiles," she said, then darted a kiss on his cheek, "be safe."

"That makes a change," Stiles said, rolling his neck as his hair turned white - letting the magic flood him - "it's usually be good."

"I'd tell you not to do anything I wouldn't do," Peter said as Stiles worked the kinks of his magic out through his body with specific stretches, "but it leaves you open for far too much, hold the line, Stiles. Don't try any heroics, just buy us time."

"Allllliiiisssssooooonnnnnn," the demon singsonged, "I know you're here, come out, come out wherever you are."

Stiles didn't bother with the door, he just opened the window in Lydia's lab and climbed out, Hale stood in the courtyard amongst the cherry trees still catcalling to Allison, who was completely unaware of it, in her enchanted sleep in the bunker across the courtyard. "You can't hide from me, little girl, you belong to me now." The demon didn't even bother to look at Stiles, "if you don't want me to murder all your friends you'll come out." Then the demon laughed, "well, I'll make it quick, it's more than they deserve for keeping you from me."

"Oi, dogbreath!" Stiles shouted, "aren't you getting a little bit too big for his britches?"

"Scott is dead," the demon laughed, he legitimate laughed, Hale's eyes glowing lavender and his claws fully extended. He was in his beta form- a stage between mostly human and the giant beast he turned into - it was something Hale never used because it wasn't much more powerful than he was as human and was just good for intimidation, but Stiles knew Hale well and he wasn't that intimidated. "You have to obey the contract."

"Not so much," Stiles answered, and pulled back the neck of his tee to reveal a healing wound. "Yeah, you thought you'd slit his throat and cut out his heart and his eye and oh, it was so traumatic." His tone was dripping sarcasm as he spoke, his fingers flexing with the magic he was holding back, "except, you didn't kill him, you just wounded me. Glamour is kinda my thing," he leant forward, leaning into the demon's space, "and what would the Big Three think if they found out you had broken the treaty, that you were poaching, and that you'd broken a contract by killing the contractor." 

Hale's hair bristled, like that of a cat who was hissing, standing almost upright as he growled. "You tricked me." He said, "I'll shred your soul and flay it over the fires of Hell for a thousand lifetimes."

"Poor baby, got his feelings hurt?" Stiles asked, "the thing is to get to Scott to fulfil the contract you've got to get through me."

The demon laughed, it was odd, a wrong sound coming out of Hale's mouth. Hale's laugh was a sort of soft chuff and this wasn't his laugh, it was just the demon laughing with his mouth. "You couldn't defeat me with this body on your side, what makes you think you can do it when it's mine? I'll kill your precious Scott, I'll kill Allison and take her gifts as my own, I'll raze all of EnMaCho to the ground, all of JuOhCho, and devour every soul housed there. I'll devour the spirits of GenSouKai and I shall take Hell for my own and turn the living world into a hellscape of my own imagining."

"I'm sorry, where you talking?" Stiles asked, "I got a little bored and my mind wandered off, I find it happens when wannabes monologue at me, it's like they think I haven't heard it all before, from bigger, badder and brighter than you." His entire posture was one of arrogance, he was cocky with it, brilliant in his defiance "and you know, if you were going to take one of us as a host, you'd think it would be me, I'm so much more dangerous than I look."

"Silly little boy," the demon answered in a low growl, "I am a Duke of Hell, commander of it's battalions, what makes you think a silly little boy can stop me?"

"I don't have to stop you, Deucalion," Stiles said as he formed a sphere of light in his hand, "I just have to hold the line."

"By the time the other Shinigami arrive you'll be dead and Meifu will be dust, I shall take the Castle of Candles for my own, I'll make it my throne, and use those human lives to warm my feet."

"Blah blah blah, seriously, is there a class, monologues for wannabes101? because I've heard it before." With the sphere fully formed Stiles threw it at the ground, it grew as it fell, creating a perfect sphere over the entire area of Meifu, trapping everyone else outside. "Let him go, Deucalion, and you can walk out of here alive."

"I am the Alpha of Alpha Wolves, I am the apex of apex predators, I am Death, the Destroyer of worlds, I am the Demon Wolf."

"Yep, monologuing for wannabes." Stiles drawled. "Derek, I am embarrassed for you right now, you're usually so much better than this. You have let this pathetic wannabe take you over, this is worse than that time you ran from a rabbit in the woods thinking it was a bear. I know you, Derek, this isn't you, this is just some upstart wannabe using your meat."

Deucalion dragged Hale's lips up into a smirk, "oh, poor little Shinigami, he can hear you, a pity you can't hear him as he screams. He's screaming for you, Shinigami, telling you to run, to get away, how everyone around him gets hurt, but you know that don't you, how he doesn't get to have nice things, oh the things he says, the promises he made, I know them all."

Stiles' eyes narrowed and he took a deep breath, "You're going to get out of him, and then I'm going to destroy you, I'm going to smear you across the cosmos, and I have thirteen Shiki to help me do it."

"What are Shiki to a Demon Wolf?" Deucalion asked and lunged, with Hale's claws extended.

"Forgive me, Derek," Stiles said as the shield threw the demon backwards, "hai, sha, kai, jin, retsu, zai, sen, Reibaku!"

Deucalion jerked and threw himself back as if he was being electrocuted, his entire frame going rigid and he howled. "Stiles," he whimpered as Stiles raised his head, his resolve wavering for a moment.

"Stop!" Scott said throwing himself at Stiles and breaking his concentration, "if you do that you'll kill him, you'll kill them both." Around Deucalion the magic was whirling like saw blades, and the demon had brought himself in, making himself a smaller target

"Scott," Stiles said, "I want to save him, I do, but this is the only thing we can do. You have to help me, please, we can save him." Stiles had his hand on Scott's shoulder, "please, he's my partner."

The demon screamed and the seal that had been holding him in place shattered like glass, with Stiles distracted he could not hold the seal and force the demon free from Hale. "Scott, get down!" Stiles said and threw himself in front of the boy as the seal came back, shattering Stiles' shield with it.

Deucalion laughed as he pulled Stiles off from Scott where they had landed. "Game over, kid," he said, and lifted Stiles by the neck. "Your precious Derek is screaming so hard it's delicious, I'm going to take you out of this half life, I'm going to tear you into pieces and throw them into different worlds, and I'll use Derek's ability to do it." The claws drove into Stiles' chest and the demon ripped his hands apart before he threw Stiles back into the building which collapsed around him. 

"Stiles!" Scott shouted leaning forward.

"Oh, poor little Derek," the demon said, wiping his hands down on the ruins of Stiles' shirt, "having to kill another person that you loved, you've just killed your partner, that poor boy. Your sins are delicious how much more guilt can I give you before your mind breaks." 

Lydia grabbed Scott, pulling him back towards the safety of the bunkers, "he'll kill you and all of this will be for nothing, none of us could have taken Derek, throw in the demon and he's indestructable, we need to get you to safety or Allison dies. The shields are holding for now, but I can tell you now, without an army we're not taking him down."

"I can use the Reibaku," Peter said, the shadows around him swirling like a storm, "I don't know if it will help against him, I'm not as strong as Stiles."

"There's no need." Stiles said, pulling himself to his feet behind them, before he literally flew back out to the battle. "I'm not done yet.” He stook himself off, the dust falling around him in a cloud. “I will judge you for what you've done."

"You're still alive?" Deucalion scoffed, "you have more lives than a cat, I will turn you into molecules and dust this time. How many times do I have to kill you for it to stick?"

"A lot more than you can do." Stiles answered, "I'm going to save Derek, and then I'm going to banish you."

"Save Derek?" Deucalion scoffed spreading his hands, "you think he's worth your salvation, your time, you don't know what he's done, what darkness lives in his black little soul, what he did to become Shinigami; the lives he destroyed and how he liked it. I've seen his memories, all of them, everything you told him." Peter took a step backwards, pushing Scott back. "I know what happened that night at your mother's grave, Stiles, I know what he said, for it happened in my name, and now Derek knows."

"No," Stiles said, his form wavering and black running through his hair as his magic winked in and out. 

"It was beautiful you know, the way he fell apart when he saw, it was as easy as breaking glass, and just as pretty. Oh, he's so close to breakdown, and what will happen then, if I show him just a little more. And you still want to save him?" Deucalion's eyes were glowing so bright they almost blotted out the rest of his face.

"Stop it!" Scott shouted, "Stop it, shut up! shut up!" he had his hands over his ears, "you're just a leech, a coward of a toad squatting in the body of someone who defeated you, a shadow." And Stiles' back stiffened, his manner becoming calm and cold as his hair returned to white, and the magic glowed in the marks that covered his body.

"A mere human challenges me." Deucalion laughed, "I'll swallow your soul with my squatting toad tongue, are you going to stop me, Scott, when it was your fault that the car crashed, that your Mom wouldn't have gotten hurt if you hadn't moved, I know that too, I can see it. I know all about the accident, I know everything because you're just meat in my way."

"Stiles!" Lydia shouted, "use the Reibaku, now, whilst he's distracted."

"Because it worked so well the first time." Deucalion laughed turning his head to her

"I told you," Stiles growled out, "I don't need to defeat you, I just need to hold the line."

"Derek!" Scott shouted, "come back, don't let this asshole beat you, you're better than that."

And Deucalion wavered, before he spat out, "his mind is lost, you might as well shout to the wind, meat."

"We need you, Derek," Scott shouted, "you saved me, you saved us all, you're not just responsible for people getting hurt, you're not. Stiles needs you, we need you."

"Shut your filthy meat mouth." Deucalion roared as Stiles muttered incantations, forcing up the shield to hold the demon in place.

"It's working," Lydia said, "it's working! Keep it up, Scott, Derek's fighting him from the inside." She sounded in awe, as if it was unthinkable. She had not thought such a thing was possible as Peter tried to pull her back, hide her behind the shadows.

"Silly little whore." The demon growled, "you think I can't control the meat I wear?"

"I think," Stiles growled, "you're paying attention to the wrong Shinigami." 

"Of course," Deucalion said, Derek's teeth growing in his mouth in the start of his kaiju transformation, "poor little Stiles, who's been in love with Lydia for so long, but she'll never see you, because of what he did to you, the way he made you dirty. So you do terrible things in the dark with this one, you go to him because she can never be yours."

And Stiles laughed, a bright sound amidst the destruction. "Futago Tengu," he shouted and a huge flock of birds appeared out of his shadow to distract the demon, "KuriKaraKen!" fire engulfed the demon. "Don't think you know me, demon, because you were there that night? that was something that happened to me, not something I am." 

"How touching how far you go for this filthy tainted little soul, this little demon breed, oh, I'm not surprised, you were taught to like it, you like it when he uses his claws, don't you, Stiles?, just like he did that night in my name when the moon was full and red."

"Stiles, he's a liar." Scott said, "demons lie." Lydia was trying to reach Scott but Peter wouldn't let her, holding her back by both arms.

"No," Stiles said turning his head, "they tell the truth, because it hurts more, they don't need to lie. But just because something is true doesn't mean it's right, it doesn't mean it hurts. Kijin, attack." 

The flames froze in place around the demon in a tremendous wave of ice that shattered into needles holding the demon in place

"Derek, I believe in you, you're better than this." Stiles said.

"You saved me." Scott shouted, "you're not what he says, come back. You saved me, Derek."

The ice around Derek shattered and he drove his clawed hands into his own belly with a yell as a tsunami of blackness erupted from him, "you think you're strong enough to stop me."

"No," Stiles said as the light exploded, cutting through the darkness until it was in tatters like fabric. "I'm not, but they are." Standing in the wreckage were three women, one blonde, one brunette and a red head, their dress and demeanour entirely different. "You're gonna get it now." Stiles sing-songed, before spitting blood out of his mouth.

The three women did not at first glance seem imposing. The blonde had her hair scraped back into a tight knot at the back of her neck and wore a simple plain grey suit with a pencil skirt and blazer. The redhead had swept her hair up into a perfect updo fixed in place with a comb, and she wore a black leather jacket, skin tight black jeans, black boots and a black tee with "the devil made me do it" written on it in pink. The third had long dark brown curls that she wore loose about her shoulders, a white dress and her feet were bare but covered in a sort of tarry black muck that was on the hem of her white dress and dripping down from gashes on her wrists and another about her throat. "Deucalion, sweetie," the redhead said in a deeply disappointed voice. "I don't know which is worse, that you attempted a coup, or that you so spectacularly broadcast it."

[](http://s11.photobucket.com/user/seraphim_grace/media/TDT_2_-_Demons_zps7ee3d8ce.jpg.html)

"And spectacularly failed at it." The blonde said, "it's almost like you wanted to get caught."

"Does baby like to get punished?" the brunette said, "picking fights with the Shinigami is only going to get our attention, now isn't it, baby?"

"You broke our laws, sweetie." The red head had a strong rich voice and an accent like molasses, the words carefully falling from lips painted a deep dark red. "We gave you a territory but it just wasn't enough, you had to get greedy."

"Of course, we have read the charges." The blonde said with a sweet smile, she didn't wear make up and looked rather plain in comparison to her sisters. 

"We have some to add," Peter said stepping forward, "the contract with Kate Argent was void," he said offering up the diary, "he appeared to her in a dream asking for the soul of her niece, something she did not have the right to sell, and she thought it a dream. She did not summon him."

Deucalion laughed, "her father summoned me, gave me Kate in exchange for more life, ten years, greedy little mortals, I was summoned."

"Yes," the brunette said, "but not by Kate, you used the first bargain to secure the second knowing that as patriarch that Gerard could give you Allison, but Kate could not. It was a clever feint, but it didn't work." She wiped at her mouth with her black stained hand, as more of the black goop fell in a drip from the corner of her mouth. "We are not so simple, baby, you made a play, it didn't work. Nowcome home with us."

Deucalion, in Derek's body, paled. "My contract was legal, it was done in my territory."

"But yet it was not in your territory that you taunted Kate." The blonde said, "you squatted inside the violin for so long, knowing she would carry it over the borders, that she would break the laws for you."

"And driving her to suicide by using a violin that drove everyone around it to suicide and murder, it was almost clever, baby." The brunette finished.

"But not clever enough." The redhead finished, "now you're going to come with us, and you're going to pay for all the damage here, in flesh and pain and some other things we'll think of later, isn't that right, sweetie?"

"Come out of the Shinigami, Deucalion." The brunette said.

"No," Deucalion said stepping back, "I'm more powerful now."

"But you are bound." The blonde said, stepping forward in her comfortable looking pumps. "You swore to obey, and you broke our laws, you drove one contractor to suicide and tried to kill another directly, and you did so publicly, we will have to be public in your punishment."

"We can't have the rank and file thinking we'll celebrate their insurrection, now can we, sweetie?" The three of them shared an expression, it was among one of the most terrifying things that Scott had ever seen, and he had just seen Stiles throw down with a demon possessing a man who could turn into a giant monster. The women were horrifying and he couldn't quite understand why his visceral reaction was to run or why his feet weren't letting him.

With a low throaty howl Hale collapsed to the ground, and Stiles, still thrumming with his magic, ran forward to catch him, slapping him across the face, "for doing that to me, asshole," he muttered.

"My Lady," Peter said, bowing his head, addressing all three by the same title as if they were the same woman, "Thought, Memory, Voice." He gave a quick genuflection, "thank you for answering our summons."

"We do not care to be summoned little shadow." The brunette said, "do not think we came for you, he broke our laws, we are grateful you informed us, but do not think we owe you, this debt is paid in full."

"One thing," Peter said, "the boy's contract." He said.

The blonde waved her hand, "cancelled," Scott suddenly felt like there was something in his eye which he wiped away with the butt of his palm. "He's an interesting boy, a pity he's powerless, he would have made an interesting Shinigami. Now we shall take our leave, the torture of a thousand years must begin with a single cut after all."

Then the three women, demons, or whatever they were, were gone as if they had never been there.

"Hey, sourwolf," Stiles said to the man in his arms as he woke up, "I am so pissed at you right now." He was oblivious to the damage and destruction around them, even that there were other people watching this.

"Yeah," Hale grumbled, "want me to rip your throat out," he paused to breathe and smile, "with my teeth."

Stiles made a chuckling sound as he smiled down at him. "It's how I knew you were possessed," Stiles said, wiping dust and soot from Derek's face, "he used his claws." And Derek laughed, it sounded so tired but he was laughing, a soft chuffing noise nothing like the noise that Deucalion had made. "You've got to thank the boy," he looked across at Scott, who was rubbing at his eye, "he saved you, he saved us all."

"I," Scott protested, suddenly under the scrutiny of all the Shinigami. "I just told him to shut up." He hadn't thought that it was a big thing at all.

"You called him a leech, dude," Stiles protested, "you pissed him off and gave us a chink in his armour that we could use."

"I heard you," Derek grumbled, attempting to stand but Stiles pushed him back down, so his head was resting on Stiles' chest with Stiles' legs underneath him. "In all that darkness, I heard you."

"No need to get mushy there, sour wolf." Stiles said, squeezing Hale tight even though Hale had just buried his head in Stiles' neck. "Fuck, I thought I'd lost you."

"M'Like old boots or Peter," Derek grumbled into his hair, "can't get rid of me."

"So what happens now?" Scott asked, looking around at the devastation. "Another party?"

The Shinigami looked at each other before Peter sighed, in a broken and tired voice, "Paperwork."


	7. Epilogue

The auditorum was dark and shadowed as Scott lowered his bow for the final time, and bowed his head as the audience erupted into noise, clapping, shouting and foot stamping. He bowed, smiling sweetly, before he took his leave from the stage. Stiles was waiting for him, "that was awesome!" he said, pulling Scott into a hug.

Danny rushed up and wrapped him arms around both of them, "Juilliard here you come!" he enthused as they turned around, Boyd's big arms crushing around Stiles whose hand reached out and pulled Isaac in to join the group hug. Isaac could be nervous and never got involved in these things in case he thought he wasn't wanted.

"Guys, it was nothing," Scott protested from the bottom of the puppy pile.

"Actually, Mr McCall, you gave a fantastic performance." Said Mr Argent, the old principal had been found dead in his bed, it was a tragedy but no one really minded because he had been creepy and the younger Mr Argent was a much better principal standing in than his father had been. "We are proud at the Argent Academy to be part of your education and hope you remember us at Carnegie Hall."

"Thanks, Mr Argent, have you seen my Mom?" He asked, looking around for her. "I just..."

"Get out of the way, boys." Mrs McCall said shouldering her way past Mr Argent, "I have a son I need to hug!" Rather than actually letting go they just made a space for her. "You were amazing!" she said, sounding just like Stiles, "I am so proud of you right now."

"Mom," Scott said, embarrassed now. "I just wanted you to like it."

"Like it, what kind of mother would I be if I just liked it, I loved it. It was amazing, you were amazing. All you boys were, Isaac, you made that harp sing, and Danny, I didn't know the cello could be used for anything other than the jaws theme, Boyd, you dominated that stage, and Stiles, your work with the cymbals was inspiring." They all just hugged her tighter. "And any of you haven't got anything planned with your parents tonight, I'm taking you all out for pizza."

"Actually, Mrs McCall," Hale said from the side, "I might have gotten there first, I invited them all for pizza before the recital, and then there was a wii marathon planned to burn off some of the adrenaline, and then they were going to crash at ours. Scott did say that he'd clear it with you beforehand and you're more than welcome to come with."

"That's really sweet of you, Derek," Mrs McCall said, "you just make sure you all behave for him,” she said waving her finger at the other boys, “I know he's Stiles' guardian but that's no reason to play up. I know he's not much older than you are." Stiles made a noise that was like a laugh. "And he assures me he's not going to buy you beer." Stiles made the noise again. Not buying them beer didn't cover half of the things that he could do, even the alcohol.

"Yes, Mrs McCall." Derek said ducking his head politely. "I am going to go brag to the other moms now, because solo spot, last part of the recital, star of the show, my boy." She kissed Scott loudly on the cheek, "now go on, enjoy yourselves, I'll see you in the morning."

 

When they all piled into Derek's Toyota, Stiles taking the front passenger seat, he looked around and asked, "is _this_ where we all sing Bohemian Rhapsody?"

“No!” The others said together as the car pulled away.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art for "The Devil's Trill"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104807) by [Reiya_Wakayama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reiya_Wakayama/pseuds/Reiya_Wakayama)




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